


Why won't you kiss me?

by celestialenigma



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Caname - Freeform, Cheating, Human Names, Light BDSM, M/M, Mild Smut, Slight Us/Uk, canonverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-29 17:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3904141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialenigma/pseuds/celestialenigma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A romantic vacation with Arthur goes wrong and Alfred ends up in Matthew's arms, inexplicably drawn like a moth to a flame. Why can't he pull away? Why can't he stop his adulterous free fall into love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I'm back with another story. This will update once a week or so. I'm not letting myself rush this, though I may be tempted to do so.
> 
> This is CanAme again. I'm trying to a different approach with these two in the canon-verse than I did with my story Deluge. I wanted to switch things up a bit.
> 
> So this story does start out as Us/Uk. But not to fear, this will story WILL be CanAme at the end. I don't bash Us/Uk in it, but if they are your OTP, you may not like this fic too much. ^^;
> 
> This story also has cheating in it, which I'm mentioning as a trigger. I couldn't help it. Cheating fics are one of my absolutely favourite things so long as they have happy endings (more or less). I was compelled by my internal muse to write this subject.
> 
> Canon-Verse but human names used. 
> 
> I don't own Hetalia, but you know that.

**Chapter 1**

 

 

Alfred F. Jones shivered in the chill wind that blew off of the nearby mountains. His free hand was covered in his thick black leather gloves and was jammed into the pocket of his jeans, the other was dragging a piece of large, rolling luggage. The sun was just starting to set and cast a warm orange and pink hue over the pale snow.

 

The scene was the epitome of a romantic setting. What would make the vacation complete was a cranky but warm Brit to snuggle with in front of a crackling fireplace.

 

Yep, anybody that would say that the personification of the U. S. of A wasn't a master in the art of love was a liar.

 

Alfred crossed the threshold into the warmth of the reception building and sighed. He went up to the cheerful female receptionist and said, “Reservation for Alfred Jones.”

 

He said and handed over a piece of ID to confirm that he was who he claimed to be.

 

She tapped a few keys on her computer and clicked the mouse, “Ah yes. The one bedroom with a den. Here is your key and you booked the room for two I see?”

 

Scratching the back of his head, Alfred said, “Yeah. I did. It'll be just me though since my partner had to cancel at the last minute.”

 

Even though Arthur would have smacked the back of Alfred's head if he had of heard the word partner. Would have called Alfred a, “Damned wanker.”

 

So easily embarrassed.

 

The lady frowned and there was pity in her eyes. Alfred didn't want to see that so he piped up with an excited voice, “Good excuse to spend some quality me-time. I hope this isn't a problem?”

 

Then Alfred flashed her his most charming smile.

 

Shaking her head, she handed over, “It's usually more of a problem when you try to add occupants rather than take them away.”

 

“Great. I hope you have a good stay here and enjoy Whistler!”

 

The lady gave Alfred the relevant information about the place was staying and then he went to his room.

 

He opened up the door and saw brown leather couch and chair that sat in front of a stone fireplace. There was a great flat screen TV and heated hardwood flooring. Off of the den was a private hot tub. Alfred dragged his bag and set it on the floor of the bedroom. He flopped across the soft quilts of the bed and closed his eyes.

 

This sucked.

 

“ _I just can't help it. This meeting came up suddenly and it's very important,” England had said when Alfred called him to confirm their plans._

 

“ _But I've had this booked for months and months Artie. Come on, can't you just cancel this or re-schedule or something,” said Alfred even though he had known that he had been whining. He had felt justified. Arthur had known about the vacation for almost as many months as Alfred had been planning it._

 

“ _No I cannot. Work is important Alfred.”_

 

“ _But so is relaxation. And besides, it's our anniversary.”_

 

_Arthur's voice softened, “I know and I apologize. But I cannot change this.”_

 

_Alfred pouted and for once was glad that he couldn't see Arthur. Usually, to get his way, he'd use puppy-dog eyes. However that time he felt an unheroic sheen of totally-not-tears come to his eyes. Arthur had done this so often. Always canceling plans for them to see each other. Always said he was busy._

 

_Alfred said, “Fine. I'll just go by myself.”_

 

_And he'd hung up._

 

Alfred hadn't wanted the vacation to go to waste. He'd heard about Whistler, British Columbia from a number of places. It was supposed to be a great place for people who liked to be active. Skiing, snowboarding, skating, snowmobiling, zip lines. It was sure to be a blast.

 

Sure he had places like that in his own country. However Whistler was supposed to be a good neutral location for both Alfred and Arthur to go. Whenever Alfred took Arthur to one of his own places, the older man assumed that he was bragging and taking Arthur there to show off. That might not have been too far from the truth.

 

America was too awesome to not be proud of.

 

Therefore, he figured that Canada was a good place to go for a winter vacation. Still close enough that it felt vaguely like home.

 

Except that now he was just lonely.

 

It wasn't the same without another person...and on his anniversary to boot.

 

Geez. This really did suck.

 

#

 

Alfred slept when he got there until noon on the second day. He only left the room to go get a whole bunch of junk food and cola as well as a meal from a McDonald's that he managed to find. He ate until he felt sleepy and then curled up under the covers of the empty bed.

 

Arthur hadn't called him back after Alfred hung up. He usually would.

 

No. Moping wasn't like him. Alfred would just peel himself up off of the bed and go have fun.

 

He pulled out a list of activities that he'd made. First he'd seen some of the sights.

 

He bundled up in as many layers as he could. Then he walked around the little village. It was quaint.

 

Once he got to the ski-rental place, he couldn't help himself. He got some skis and took the first lift up that he could (after waiting in a bit of a line).

 

Alfred had skied before. He loved sports and had prided himself on having done as many different ones as he could. He thought that he was pretty good at skiing. So he went onto a more advanced run. He tried not to think about how he'd been looking forward to perhaps showing England how to ski.

 

At the top of the run there was him and one other guy. Alfred wasn't wearing a helmet since he was too awesome to need one. The guy beside him was wearing one and a pair of shiny goggles. He looked sort of familiar, but Alfred couldn't see the guy's eyes or much of the blond hair. He just seemed so-

 

The man faced him and Alfred could swear that were it not for the goggles, their eyes would have connected. Then the guy smirked and went down the run.

 

Fast.

 

Alfred knew a challenge when he saw one.

 

The sky was a bright blue above him as he descended. Plumes of snow billowed around him as he swerved and slid. The man in the tan jacket with the white fur trim was ahead, but not by much. Wind slapped at his face and he laughed heartily as he caught up and sent the man a grin.

 

As soon as he went by, the man he was racing caught a second wind and zoomed passed. It was as if the man was one with the mountain. They were already going so fast as it was. Did the guy grow invisible and start to fly?

 

Once Alfred got to the bottom of the run, he slid over to the side where the man he had just raced was and then said, “Good run dude. Man are you ever fast.”

 

“I should hope so, I do practice a fair bit,” said the man, taking off his helmet and revealing his mop of wavy blond hair with that one unruly curl.

 

“Can-Matthew?” said Alfred, correcting his almost slip-up of referring to nation-status in public.

 

“Yes,” said Matthew, going back over to the lift, “Want to go back up together?”

 

Alfred nodded, “Yeah sure. What are you doing here?”

 

“This is my country you know. Is it really so surprising that I'd be here?” asked Matthew, standing in line.

 

Alfred could not believe that Matt was waiting in line in his own country. Alfred hardly waited in line for anything. He always played up his VIP government status. That didn't work as well in other countries. But in his own?

 

Like a charm.

 

“Why don't you just flash some kind of ID and skip the line dude?” wheedled Alfred, nudging his fellow nation in the side.

 

“No.”

 

“No?”

 

“No. I'll wait my turn in line. It's only fair,” said Matthew, nodding to himself like he'd just revealed some great truth.

 

“Boring,” groaned Alfred and resigned himself to his fate of waiting, which he would have had to do anyway since he didn't actually expect to see Matthew here but that wasn't the point.

 

“A boring guy who kicked your butt at skiing,” said Matt in the oh-so-quiet voice of his.

 

“Not by much,” said Alfred, crossing his arms, “Since when are you good at things like this anyway?”

 

“Since always,” said Matthew, sounding a tad weary as they sat down on the lift seat and rode up.

 

“It's just that you sucked so much a playing catch that I only assumed...” said Alfred, trailing off and watching the sights.

 

Whispering beside him, Matthew said, “I'm pretty good at sports related to snow and ice. Not so much other ones.”

 

“Makes sense,” said Alfred, “Since your country is snowy for most of the year.”

 

Sputtering, Matt said, “It is not. J-jerk!”

 

Heh. Riling Matt up was fun sometimes.

 

“Sure it is. Look at all the snow there is now.”

 

“It's winter!” protested Matt as they neared the top of the mountain.

 

“Excuses,” said Alfred, cheerfully slipping off the seat and towards the course, “Wanna do the same one? I bet I'll win this time.”

 

“You're on.”

 

#

 

Matthew didn't like being smug about most things. He generally prided himself on being a relatively humble man.

 

This was not the case when he beat Alfred at something – anything really.

 

Matthew had to deal with a lot of flack from other nations thinking that he was the personified nation of America. He was Canada gosh darn it and getting mistaken for his neighbour drove him crazy. So it was nice to get one-up on the guy.

 

They'd spent the entire afternoon going down the slopes and trading jabs back and forth. It had been a lot of fun. More fun than Matthew would have had if he'd been alone as he'd assumed he would.

 

Once the mountain was closed, Alfred brought back his skis to the rental place. Matthew packed his in their case and carried it since he owned his own gear.

 

“Are you staying close by? Wanna get dinner together?” said Alfred with a hint of something other than cheer in his voice. Was it desperation?

 

No.

 

There was no way that Matthew's ever bold and strong neighbour would be anxious about anything.

 

“Sure. I'm just at a hotel over there. I got a discount because I was here for business and stayed afterwards for a vacation,” said Matthew.

 

“Great. We can just drop your stuff off and then grab food. I'm starved.”

 

They did just that. Alfred stayed in the hotel lobby while Matthew ran upstairs. When he came back down, he saw Alfred sitting on a chair in the spacious sitting area of the first floor. The man was frowning at his cell-phone.

 

“Oh do you need to leave or something?” assumed Canada, since the social life of a nation was prone to disruptions from their bosses.

 

“Nah. I'm cool,” said Alfred, hastily putting away his phone and then jumping up.

 

The gregarious blond chattered constantly about a variety of things like work, video games and movies. Matthew smiled and nodded along all the way into the restaurant and while they waited for their food.

 

Once there was a lull in the conversation, he said, “Why are you here Al?”

 

“I-” started Alfred, poking at his steak and spearing a piece of meat on a fork along with a small pile of onions, “I was supposed to be here with Artie. It's our anniversary tonight and he canceled on me.”

 

“Oh,” said Matthew, who of course had known that Alfred was dating Arthur. Most other nations who didn't live under a rock would know that. Alfred, though not hanging out with his neighbour all the time, had told Matthew when he began dating the Brit a couple decades previous.

 

Alfred swirled his fork through some sauce and pouted. Matthew didn't know what to say. He never knew what to say since Alfred and he didn't hang out all too often.

 

Finally he decided, “That bites.”

 

Smiling thankfully, Alfred said, “Yeah it does. I had planned this for ages. He's been doing this a lot recently. It's pretty annoying.”

 

“Canceling plans?”

 

“Uh-huh. And he just doesn't seem to care that he does it because he just keeps...you know...doing it. When we do get together, everything seems good to me. I just don't know. He hasn't even called me after I hung up on him the other day or responded to my texts. What should I do Matt?”

 

It was always like this. They may not hang out all the time, but Alfred seemed to trust Matt with these sorts of things. Opened up to him.

 

“Talk to him when you see him next? And call him instead of texting,” said Matthew, spearing a potato and taking a bite with a pleased hum.

 

“I have called him. Maybe tomorrow I'll call his office. He hates it when I do that but I just don't like being ignored.”

 

Join the club.

 

That was what Matthew was tempted to say. He got ignored all the time by other nations. His own people liked him of course, even ones who didn't know what he was to them (that was most civilians of course). However Alfred was clearly upset. Only half of his food had been eaten.

 

“That would suck. It ended up happening to me when I was with Gilbert,” said Matthew, shrugging and taking a sip of his lager.

 

“You were seeing somebody?” asked Alfred, narrowed gaze, “Who is Gilbert? Can't be that damn commie. His name is Miguel right? And you know how much I hate him.”

 

“Not that I need your permission to date anybody,” said Matthew, glaring at the food on his plate instead of Alfred, “But Gilbert used to be Prussia.”

 

“Oh him. What happened between you two and why didn't you tell me you were seeing somebody?”

 

“One: You aren't around here that often and it didn't come up during the few times that you were,” said Matthew, watching Alfred look vaguely ashamed at himself for ignoring his neighbour, “And two: He started spending less time with me, ignoring me. Eventually he told me that he wanted to see other people. Though he worded it as, 'My awesome is too much for this relationship now. It needs somebody else.'”

 

Alfred promptly whined, “Mattie, that doesn't help at all. That just makes me more worried.”

 

Matt reached over and placed a hand over Alfred's on the table, “Don't worry. You an Arthur have always cared a great deal about each other, even when you're fighting.”

 

That made Matt cringe with long buried emotions. The fact that the two other nations had always preferred each other had been a sore point with him when he was younger. Now, not as much, because he'd become used to it and had other friends and people to socialize with.

 

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks Matt! You always know just what to say to cheer me up. I should hang out with you more often,” said Alfred, instantly bouncing out of his funk like he was a spring.

 

“So when do you leave?” asked Matt, wanting to change the subject.

 

“About five days, why?”

 

“I know some really great places in B.C that aren't too far away from the village. That is...if you will come with me?”

 

“Sure! I love adventures.”

  
#

 

Alfred jammed both hands in his pockets as he saw Matt walk up to where they'd agreed to meet.

 

The sun wasn't even up yet and a light snow dusted the packed piles that were already on the ground. Alfred loved the mornings but hated the cold when he didn't have somebody to warm him.

 

Matt, on the other hand, was the opposite; Alfred knew that much and he was clutching a coffee like it held water from the fountain of youth. Though since nations were immortal, Alfred mused that that probably wasn't a very good analogy.

 

Matt wore a coat but it didn't bulge with a hundred layers underneath, unlike Alfred's own. He wore thin gloves and knit winter hat. What did he call those again? Tics? Tonks? Torques?

 

It didn't matter. Matt also had a large backpack, probably full of supplies. Alfred had a backpack too.

 

Full of snacks and some minor supplies.

 

“Why did we have to get up when it is still so cold out? I coulda played video games for a bit,” pouted Alfred.

 

Matt shook his head, “I hate waking early but we need to in order to get to our destination and back in time.”

 

As Matt got closer, Alfred saw that the coffee was from Tim Horton's. He caught the aroma drift over and groaned. He'd forgotten to drink some coffee that morning.

 

“Lemme have a sip,” said Alfred, hand already on the red cup.

 

Matt yanked the drink back and snarled so furiously that Alfred took a step back, “Touch my Timmies again and I'll kill you and bury you so deep in my wilderness that nobody will ever find you.”

 

Alfred blinked and then chuckled, “Heh, Arthur gets the same way over his morning tea. His 'cuppa'”

 

Matt grumbled incoherently.

 

Alfred laughed again at what he perceived as a funny word. Cuppa. Heh. Watching Matt was also pretty amusing.

 

“I didn't know that you were so fierce outside of war Matt.”

 

“A threat to my coffee is akin to a national threat.”

 

Together they walked to a snowmobile rental shop. It was closed but Matt knocked on the door. A few minutes and some grumbles from inside the shop, the door opened. There was a grumpy looking Canadian standing there, clutching a coffee in a similar way as Matt.

 

Were all Canadians this grumpy and addicted to caffeine? This stranger, in that moment looked so very much like the personified nation, even if many of their physical attributes were different.

 

“Well come on in then. We don't want to let the warm air out, eh?”

 

Alfred giggled.

 

Matt glared over at him, “What?”

 

“He said eh,” whispered Alfred.

 

Alfred easily dodged Matt's attempt to elbow him in the side and followed the shop owner to the area where the snowmobiles were.

 

“Thanks for doing this for me,” said Matt, drinking the rest of his coffee and placing the cup in the proper bin.

 

“It's not a problem. I owe you one. But unfortunately I can only give you one. We're running low on them.”

 

Matt arched a brow, “How? This is a big part of your business.”

 

The man sighed, “A group of adults rented around five and then let their idiot teens drive them. The mobiles are being repaired. This is a busy season and I like to keep enough in stock for others.”

 

“It's fine. Alfred and I can just ride together. It's big enough.”

 

Alfred frowned, “Can I drive?”

 

“No,” was all the answer Matt seemed willing to give as he took that keys for the vehicle.

 

“But snowmobiling is fun. I wanna.”

 

“No.”

 

“Pleeeease?” said Alfred.

 

“Maybe on the way back once you'll know the terrain and what to expect.”

 

Alfred sighed and was ignored.

 

Matt put his supplies into the snow mobile's storage.

 

Once they were back outside, Matt got on and Alfred boarded behind him with his backpack still on. Like he was a girl or something.

 

“Scoot up or you'll fall off. I drive fast.”

 

“There's no way you go that fa-”

 

Alfred was cut off by Matt zipping forward. Could snowmobiles even go that damn fast? Again with Matt's weird snow powers.

 

Alfred had nearly fallen off, so he clutched onto the other man's shoulders and plastered his front to Matt's back, “Crazy canuck.”

 

Matt just laughed.

 

#

 

Not usually one to wax poetic, Alfred was almost tempted with the scenery around him.

 

While nothing could be quite as great as his own country, Alfred had to admit that Canada was damn gorgeous. Sparkling white snow; icy lakes sometimes dotted with fishing huts; high mountains reaching to the heavens; trees as far as he could see. Even the occasional brave animal was still close enough for them to see. Alfred wondered where they were going even if he was enthralled with the epic vistas around him.

 

Eventually, Matthew stopped the vehicle, took and said, “We're on foot from here.”

 

And then they climbed. It wasn't too steep and it was only the lower parts of the mountain. Alfred was surprised that the trek wasn't too hard. But still challenging enough to be fun for Alfred.

 

“Formed this way naturally,” said Matt as a response, “Not many tourists make it out this far or know where to go.”

 

But it was Matthew's land and he did know, were the unspoken words. Alfred knew what it was like though, to feel every inch of your land as if it were your own skin.

 

When they stopped, it was on a rocky plateau, open to the air and only ten feet above all of the highest trees. Alfred could see for miles and just on the other side of them was a waterfall. It was far enough away so as to not get water on them or make it hard to speak but close enough to be spectacular.

 

“Wow,” said Alfred.

 

“I know.”

 

Looking back at Matt, Alfred saw a deep pride in the man's eyes and a warm smile on his lips. Sunlight shone off of the silken blond waves and Alfred was struck at once at how handsome his neighbour was. Alfred hadn't ever taken the time to really think about it before.

 

Coughing and pushing the thoughts from his head, Alfred said, “So how about something to eat? I'm frickin' starving.”

 

“I brought some granola bars and some jerky,” said Matt, taking off his pack that he'd taken from the storage of the vehicle.

 

Alfred chuckled, “Forget those. I brought munchies.”

 

“Chocolate bars? Chips? Pop? What sorts of trail foods are those?”

 

“Awesome ones.”

 

Matthew rolled his eyes but took a can of the 'pop' and sat on a rock. Man people who weren't from America had weird words for things. It was soda. But Alfred was feeling generous enough not to comment for once.

 

“You'd better not even think about leaving your garbage here.”

 

Alfred sat beside Matt and frowned, “I'm not that bad you know. Geez.”

 

Some of Alfred's emotions must have shown through in his voice, because Matt looked over. His kind violet eyes roved over him and then he patted Alfred's knee.

 

“I'm sorry. I was joking around. I guess it wasn't very funny. Ha ha,” stammered Matthew nervously.

 

Alfred shook his head and swallowed his bite of chocolate in order to say, “Naw. I'm just feeling a bit sensitive. After all, Arthur is always poking fun at me somehow. It usually doesn't bug me too much, but when he isn't responding to my texts or anything...”

 

“You still didn't call him?”

 

Shrugging, Alfred didn't say anything because he didn't want to admit that he was a teensy bit afraid to. He was a hero and wasn't supposed to be scared of anything.

 

“So what movies have you seen recently,” said Alfred, cheerfully changing the subject.

 

#

 

Alfred was allowed to drive back since he remembered the way. It was hard for him to get lost in Canada, especially with the nation in question oh so close to him. He felt Matthew's every breath. It was distractingly warm and smelled sweet.

 

The wind picked up during the later part of the afternoon and chilled Alfred's face, stinging it red.

 

By the time they were back, all Alfred wanted to do was soak in the hot tub.

 

“Hey Matt,” said Alfred as they came out from the snowmobile rental shop, “Wanna pick up food and then go back to my place and soak in the private hot tub in my room?”

 

Matthew blinked and then smiled, “Sure. As long as you call Arthur.”

 

“Oh maaaan. Fine. But you promise to be there in case he's really mad at me or something?”

 

“Of course.”

 

As soon as they ordered some Chinese, they went back as fast as they could.

 

Matthew went to work serving the food as Alfred dialed his boyfriend.

 

It rang several times before Arthur picked up.

 

“Hey babe. Did I catch you at the wrong time?” said Alfred, since the Brit sounded out of breath.

 

“ _No. I'm fine. H-how is the vacation?”_ said Arthur, a rustling of fabric in the background.

 

“It's great. Matt's here. But I miss you. Yesterday was our anniversary and you didn't respond to my text messages. Are you mad at me angel-pie?”

 

Alfred expected some kind of outraged response at the nickname. As it was, he heard Matthew snicker behind him. Arthur hated pet names and wasn't one to want to talk about their relationship and the fact that they were partners.

 

So what Arthur did reply with surprised Alfred.

 

“No. I'm not upset. My phone died. I apologize,” said that sexy British accent that sounded mildly distracted.

 

“Wha-” started Alfred, not sure what else to say to this man who just couldn't have been Arthur. No snark, no bite to his words. Just an apology.

 

“Who are you and what did you do to Arthur?” said Alfred, free hand fisted on his hip.

 

“Idiot,” ah there was the Arthur he knew, “Can't I just be sorry?”

 

“Well yeah. I guess. But couldn't you have borrowed your boss's phone or something?”

 

“No. Hold on a moment.”

 

There was silence on the other end that was too deep to be natural. It was as if Arthur had covered the mouthpiece or put the phone on mute.

 

That British voice came back and said, “I have to go again. Sorry. I l-love you.”

 

Another quick phone call. Damn.

 

“I love you too Artie.”

 

And then there was the tone, indicating that Arthur had hung up.

 

Alfred swallowed, thick and clenched his eyes shut. What the hell was going on? He hated this!

 

“So...your food is served,” said Matthew's soft and sweet as honey voice.

 

They ate in relative silence, Matt not once asking what had happened on the phone. For that Alfred was glad because he didn't even know what had happened.

 

Alfred put the paper plates on the table and went to the hot tub. He started it going and grabbed a couple towels. He closed the wooden sliding panels around the windowed walls that surrounded the hot tub area. Then he undressed.

 

Matthew came into the room and immediately flushed, “We're soaking naked?”

 

Alfred nodded, “Yeah dude. Why not?”

 

“Well, you h-have a boyfriend for one.”

 

Probably. Though Arthur acted like he didn't even want to be.

 

Alfred didn't say that and instead said, “So? It isn't as if we didn't see each other naked when we were kids.”

 

“That was very different. I've changed.”

 

Alfred sighed as he sunk into the hot and slowly bubbling water. Bliss.

 

“Unless you've grown a vagina all of a sudden, I'm not going to be startled.”

 

“Okay,” said Matthew hesitantly, slowly stripping and folding his clothes into a neat pile. The northern nation never did things like folding or cleaning unless he was nervous or about to be buried in his own mess. Alfred knew this for a fact because growing up, the room they shared had been a disaster.

 

As soon as Matthew slipped off his briefs and straightened his back, Alfred gasped, “Holy shit dude! Is that a dick or a tree trunk?”

 

Matthew grimaced and snatched his underwear back and readied himself to put them back on, “I knew I should have left these on.”

 

Chuckling, Alfred said, “No, don't. You don't need to. I was just messing with you.”

 

“I'd rather you didn't.”

 

Matt got into the water quickly and kept his hands over his junk. His face was red again and Alfred knew that it wasn't because of the heat of the water. Matt was funny with his near constant blushing. Alfred grinned and sunk lower so that his chin was dipping in and his legs were spread wide.

 

He hadn't ever been one to be modest about nudity. At least not when it came to being around other guys.

 

Just as his eyes began to slide shut, Matt asked, “So would you like to talk about it?”

 

“Not really,” said Alfred, but then found the words spilling from his mouth like a leaky faucet, “He wasn't snarky with me at all.”

 

“Wouldn't that be a good thing? I mean, most couples like being nice to each other.”

 

Alfred shook his head, “I do like it when he is nice to me. It's just that he doesn't like talking about our relationship. He won't even admit that we're partners.”

 

Matt began to relax, resting his arms along the side of the tub, “But haven't you been dating for over twenty years?”

 

Alfred straightened up immediately and gestured wildly, “Yes! We totally have been. So I don't know what to think. I mean, I'm not one to talk about relationships and junk all the time either But this is getting ridiculous.”

 

“One second,” said Matt and got out of the tub, towel quickly wrapped around his waist.

 

The man came back a few minutes later with a bowl of candy and placed it near Alfred and then smiled.

 

Alfred jammed some of the food in his mouth gratefully. Thank God for Matt. He always understood the need to comfort eat. Once he swallowed, he said, “I miss him and I don't think he misses me.”

 

He turned to the bowl of jujubes and skittles, stuffing his face. He wasn't looking behind him so he didn't expect the hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently but with a hidden strength not shown to many others.

 

“I think that everything will work out in the end.”

 

Alfred melted under that hand and resisted the urge to lean closer. He needed that. He needed somebody to reassure him in a way that not many people were willing to.

 

Alfred met his neighbour's eyes. He saw the fear that tried to creep into that winter-paled face and quickly said, “Thanks. I'm glad that you're here buddy. You and me? We're always going to be friends right?”

 

For once, the smile that Matt gave met his eyes and the slight fear of something that the northern nation often tried hard to restrain faded away. Alfred had never fully understood why Matt would be so wary around him sometimes. Scared of being hurt? Alfred hoped that Matt's fright would stay away for good this time.

 

“Sure. Unless you invade me again,” said Matt, chuckling and dodging the splash of hot water that Alfred sent his way.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say other than I think that Saturday will be when I update. Also thank you for the kudos :)

**Chapter 2**

 

That morning, Alfred woke up ready to go. It wasn't as early as the previous day and so the sun had the chance to warm the outside just enough to be almost pleasant. It hit Alfred's skin and soaked right in.

 

Alfred mused that British Columbia would be pretty great to visit in the summer.

 

Maybe he'd have to do that at some point.

 

First things first though.

 

Breakfast.

 

Alfred went to a diner and ordered a huge one to go. He made sure that there were pancakes, piles of bacon, sausages, eggs, toast, home fries and more.

 

Then he went to the hotel where Matt was staying and knocked on the door to the man's room, arms laden with bags and a cup tray with two extra-large Tims.

 

He heard a faint noise from within but not the actual words.

 

He knocked again and called, “Wakey Wakey!”

 

Something hit the door. It sounded as if it broke, whatever it was.

 

From inside he heard, “That was your phone. You should probably stop throwing those in the morning.”

 

Who was...? Oh right, Kumajirou.

 

Very soon, the door's lock clicked open and Alfred managed to open the door. Kuma sat on his white furred butt a little ways away, having been the one to open the lock. Beside him were the fragmented pieces of Matt's cell-phone.

 

A Matt-shaped lump was on the bed, covers over his head and there was faint grumbling. Something about pets who were traitors and 'stupid American bastards'.

 

The two of them had parted ways that night since Matt had wanted to get back to see his pet. Alfred understood that. If he was able to bring Tony and whale-dude around with him, he totally would. He had a cat and a dog too, but those didn't like to travel either. Matt's bear was the most easy-going animal on the planet, probably. Maybe just below the sloth of – well – sloths.

 

Putting the bags down, Alfred started to serve the food. He decided to give man a chance to wake up. That way there'd be less grumbling and attempts at hurting Alfred. Not that Matt was fast enough to actually be able to get a punch on him. At least not this early in the morning.

 

A hand stuck out of the blanket, “Coffee.”

 

“How are you going to drink that while laying down?”

 

Matt paused and then, “I'll think of a way. I'm crafty.”

 

“Just get up, eat and then come skiing with me.”

 

Slowing emerging from his fortress of blankets, Matt poked his head out and then said, “You just want to try to beat me on the slopes again.”

 

But Matt did take the coffee and began to drink with a happy little hum and a quirk to his soft pink lips, so cute and pouty.

 

Wait? What had he just thought?

 

Alfred frowned down at his gigantic pile of food.

 

He hadn't been drinking beer or any other kind of booze. So why was he thinking this kind of thing about Matthew, the boy he grew up with? Damn, Alfred even had a boyfriend.

 

Matt shuffled over and they ate while watching some TV, a habit they both liked to indulge in. A little voice in the back of Alfred's mind tried to tell him that Arthur never did that with him. It wasn't proper, the Brit would always claim. It especially wasn't proper for a grown man, a nation no less, to watch cartoons.

 

Yet there he and Matt were, giggling to the antics of Spongebob and his friend Patrick on the large screen TV mounted on the wall.

 

Alfred couldn't help but feel pleasantly full and relaxed, sitting with Matthew. Watching the small streams of sun flow in from the cracked curtains, splashing the other blond in it's rays, highlighting the lightly freckled bridge of Matt's nose.

 

Bouncing up in a frail attempt to ignore his own confusing feelings, Alfred exclaimed with one fist in the air, “Time to ski!”

 

Matt followed with a roll of his eyes.

 

#

 

Several times down the slopes and hours later, Alfred felt himself getting restless. Matthew had beat him every single time and the competitor inside of Alfred wanted to win, at least once.

 

They stood at the top of the most difficult run in the area. Clouds filled the sky and flakes of snow drifted down, landing and melting on Alfred's nose.

 

This was the last chance of the day before the slopes closed. After a count of ten they were off, slipping and swerving down the track, avoiding the many obstacles.

 

Matthew was still in the lead somehow, looking as if he wasn't even trying and Alfred clenched his fists around his ski poles in annoyance. It wasn't as if he was actually upset at Matthew for being so damned good at the sport, he just wasn't used to losing.

 

Then he saw his chance when Matthew took a section that slowed him down, just momentarily. Alfred zoomed by.

 

“See ya suckah!” called Alfred, hardly watching where he was going.

 

With the burst of speed he got, there was no way that Matthew was going to catch up to him. Alfred was going to win the last run of the day.

 

He was so happy for his soon to be victory, he didn't see the tree until it was an inch from his skis and too late to swerve away. He moved his face away so that his nose didn't get smacked, but Alfred still felt a scraping and burning pain along the side of his face on his cheek and jaw. His shoulder crashed into the hard tree and ached as he fell to the snow.

 

Matthew stopped right beside Alfred and leaned down, “Oh Geez, are you alright?”

 

“M'fine,” said Alfred, poking and then wincing at the scrape on his face.

 

He took away his finger and saw it covered with blood. Damn. His face was too handsome to be covered in scrapes.

 

“We need to get you down the mountain and those disinfected,” said Matthew, brushing strands of blond hair off of Alfred's face with his forehead crinkled up in concern.

 

“Mmm-hmmm,” said Alfred, righting his skis and getting them back on.

 

They went down more leisurely for the rest of the slope. Alfred felt Matthew's eyes on him every now and then, so worried.

 

Some of the village attendants asked Alfred if he was alright once the two men were down. He just waved it off, “I've had worse.”

 

It wasn't until they were in Matt's hotel room, which was closest, and Matt had dragged out his first aid kit that the silence was broken, “Al, are you mad at me?”

 

“Huh? No, not really. Just need to get better at skiing I guess.”

 

“You can't be the best at everything. But are you sure that you aren't upset. You've been looking at me funny every since this morning.”

 

Hissing when Matt dabbed his face with an alcohol soaked cotton pad, Alfred said, “Really. I'm good. Hey? Do you wanna drink after this?”

 

“Yes. I really would.”

 

#

 

They'd gone out and grabbed a few packs of two-fours with the idea that they'd have extras for the rest of the week. Matt and Alfred drank and lined up the entire coffee table with bottles.

 

At some point, they'd decided that a good idea would be watching porn. Gay porn, of course. They had similar tastes when it came to sexuality.

 

Moans filled the room from the speakers. They were too drunk to care about what their neighbours might think or hear. But not too drunk as to impede their ability to talk properly.

 

“How do they get so hairless?” wondered Matt, shy demeanour long since flown away with the freeness of the drink.

 

“Wax.”

 

“Doesn't it hurt?” asked Matt, tilting his head adorably.

 

“Not really, at least once you get used to it.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Alfred laughed, “How do you think I get this baby smooth?”

 

“Oh,” said Matt and then snorted, “Heh heh, you wax! That's funny.”

 

“At least I'm not hairy like some people I know,” said Alfred and popped the cap off another bottle.

 

“Hey! It's my french heritage. I get it from Francis.”

 

Making a face, Alfred said, “I do not wanna think about Francis while I'm looking at porn, m'kay?”

 

“Fair enough. I don't really want to either to tell you the truth.”

 

Handing Matthew another beer, Alfred cocked a brow, “Wait, I thought that you had a crush on him?”

 

Matt shrugged, “Perhaps way back, when I was a teen. But then I discovered that we aren't compatible.”

 

Alfred huffed, “'Cause he's a player.”

 

“No...well yeah but that's not what I meant.”

 

Alfred muted the porn. The bottom in that video was way too vocal. Geez. It sounded as if the guy was being murdered rather than fucked.

 

“What'd ya mean then?”

 

Some embarrassment seeped back into Matt and the man tipped the beer back to take a big gulp. Then he said, “We're both tops. Sex wasn't really enjoyable for either of us. We did try though.”

 

Alfred was barely able to swallow in time and only just avoided beer being sprayed everywhere. He looked over at Matt who was still watching the porn with vague interest in it.

 

Matt wasn't a submissive bottom? Whoa. Guess you really can't judge a book by it's cover.

 

Not wanting to comment or think about how much that thought aroused him, he shifted in his seat and went for the next topic he could think of, “You and Francis slept together?”

 

“Ages ago. A bit after world war two but not by much. It wasn't as if we dated or anything. We were both just in a weird place after the war and wanted some comfort, especially Francis after what he'd gone through. Though it didn't work very well,” said Matt looking at the bottle in his hand, “Wow. This really loosens you up. I haven't told anybody that before. Not even Gilbert.”

 

Alfred said, “So wait - was Gilbert a bottom?”

 

This was getting more and more interesting as they continued. Alfred never in a million years would have thought that the former nation of Prussia would have been anything but a top.

 

Matt shook his head, “A switch. He bottomed for me most of the time though. Maybe he got sick of not being able to top. Maybe that's why he left me. That and I'm boring.”

 

Alfred slid right up to Matthew and draped his arms around the man, “Nuh-uh. You're super cool even if you can be a stick in the mud sometimes. If anybody deserves better it's you.”

 

Matt blushed, “T-thanks.”

 

Alfred downed the rest of his own brew and then whispered, though his voice came out pretty loud despite himself, “Can I tell you a secret since we're sharing?”

 

“Sure thing buddy.”

 

“I don't really like to top. I like to be pushed down and,” Alfred took a drink from another bottle that he opened and then said, “-pushed down and fucked hard. But Arthur feels the same. He hates to be dominant in the bedroom so I always have to take control.”

 

Matt shook his head, “Just not fair how we can't find somebody who will give us what we want.”

 

Then, as if he realized what he just said, Matt spoke once more, a bit frantic, “Not that Arthur isn't right for you. I just meant that-”

 

Alfred leaned against Matt, resting his head sleepily against the other man's shoulder, “You can say whatever you want. We're friends. You're entitled to your opinion.”

 

Matt sighed in relief and wrapped his arm around Alfred's shoulder, “Good.”

 

#

 

Matthew woke up on the couch, rubbing his eyes. A headache crashed over him all of a sudden and he groaned. There was a blanket over his lower half and a steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of him as well as a couple of pills.

 

He grabbed both items and downed the pills as fast as he could, desperate for the sweet relief from his hangover.

 

Once he chugged had chugged half of the coffee, feeling the pleasant burn down his throat, he wondered what had happened the night before. He vaguely recalled watching dirty videos and drinking enough beer to fell a rhino. However none of the bottles were anywhere to be seen.

 

Alfred must have cleaned them up.

 

When other nations thought about what Alfred was like, they tended to think of him as a bit lazy. That couldn't be farther from the truth.

 

Matthew was the one who was lazy and Alfred would always tidy up the messes he left behind whenever they got together. Both of them did this without thinking too much about that fact that they'd done it.

 

Coming in the door was Alfred, once again bringing food. The guy was smiling and peppy. Why didn't he ever get hangovers?

 

They ate in silence. Matt was glad. Mornings plus a hangover made for a really bad start to the day.

 

Except that Alfred kept looking at him. Way more than he'd ever done before. And he kept serving him, asking if he needed more coffee or any ketchup on his potatoes.

 

“What do you want?” whispered Matt, having finally had enough of whatever this was about.

 

“Huh?” said Alfred, eyes widened in and almost child-like curiosity.

 

“You're nice. But never this much unless you want something. So what is it?”

 

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Alfred, eyes darting to the side for less than a second.

 

It was a barely noticeable tell of Alfred lying. You'd only really catch it if you knew the man.

 

Matthew, in fact, did know Alfred well enough.

 

“I'm going back to my hotel room,” said Matt, hopefully loud enough for Alfred to hear, and got up.

 

Before he got far, there was a hand on his arm.

 

“Okay. I do want something.”

 

Turning just his head to see Alfred out of the corner of his eye, Matt raised a brow in question.

 

“Well. I sorta had a day in a spa booked before I got here. It's in an hour and it's for two. Come with me? I'll look weird going alone.”

 

Matt turned more. America, the manly hero, planned to go to a spa? Would the guy ever cease to surprise Matthew?

 

“Since when do you care what people think of you?” responded Matt, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“I don't. I just don't want the money to go to waste. Come on. You'll get a free massage and then a soak in the hot waters. Please?”

 

Matthew hummed thoughtfully. He wasn't sure.

 

“Come on. I know that you get pedicures with Francis whenever you two get together.”

 

“You aren't going to take pictures of me in a compromising position and post them to Facebook again are you?”

 

“One time! I only did that one time like two years ago. But come on, you and Kumajirou were wearing matching outfits. It was hilarious.”

 

“Yeah well, jokes on you because nobody knew who I was in the photo,” said Matt, immediately looking down to the ground since that actually made him feel sorry for himself.

 

“Mattie...I promise I won't. I just think this will be good.”

 

“Fine.”

 

#

 

Why had Alfred never noticed how hot Matthew was before?

 

The massage had been super good, very relaxing. Then they went to the hot pools. The idea was that you went from the hot water, and then got out and had a cool shower.

 

That was what Matt was doing right then.

 

The Canadian was standing under the cold water, letting it pour over his pale skin as if he was a God of winter itself. His hair was plastered down, framing that strong face. Water sluiced down those well defined muscles. Geez, Matt must work out almost as much as Alfred himself.

 

Then Matt donned his robe and went to one of the chairs to lay. The man peeked over to Alfred.

 

Alfred got over and went for his robe when Matt said, “Afraid of the cold?”

 

Making a noise low in his throat, Alfred said, “No. I could totally go under that water I just choose not to.”

 

“Chicken,” said Matt, who didn't usually provoke Alfred, but must be feeling very relaxed and at ease.

 

Thinning his lips and staring over at the cold water as if it were acid, Alfred cried, “You only live once!”

 

And then stood under the water and shrieked like a little girl.

 

“Holy Mary Mother of God how did you stand under that for so long Mattie?” cried Alfred, getting dirty looks from all of the other spa patrons who wanted to relax.

 

Alfred ran over to Matt and popped out his lower lip, “I'm so cold.”

 

With a sigh, Matt moved over on his chair and made room. He didn't even wait before he got into Matt's arms.

 

“You're such a baby.”

 

“You're the same way about the heat.”

 

“That's different. When it's too hot, there's only so much you can do to cool yourself down. When it's cold, you can layer up as much as you want. If you don't have electricity available, you can't have A/C but in winter you can always start a fire.”

 

Alfred snorted, “You've thought way too much about this man.”

 

“It's true though.”

 

“You're just a wimp to the heat,” said Alfred, snuggling closer to Matt's warmth, relishing that arm around him.

 

“Says the self proclaimed hero who's cuddling me for warmth because of a little cold.”

 

“Heroes can cuddle too you know.”

 

“Uh-Huh.”

 

And then they just lay like that for a while, the sun shining down, drying their skin. Eventually they went into the sauna and lounged for a bit as well, softly touching and cuddling.

 

When they went back to Alfred's room they were happy and feeling almost boneless.

 

After a takeout dinner, they watched some TV. Everything was nice.

 

So Alfred didn't know why he did it. Didn't know why he gave into that carnal urge.

 

But when Matt turned to tell him something, Alfred leaned forward and kissed his neck. He knew in the back of his mind how wrong it was. A voice tried to whisper the name 'Arthur'. But Alfred pushed those thoughts away. He was lonely and needy and Matt was so hot and just there and -

 

Matt grabbed both of Alfred's shoulder with a firm but kind touch and said, “Why did you do that?”

 

Alfred said, “I want you.”

 

And kissed one of the arms holding him, once, twice and then a grabbed one of the hands.

 

“You just miss Arthur.”

 

“I do, but you are so incredibly hot. Fuck me.”

 

Alfred took Matt's index finger and licked the tip before sucking it into his mouth and fellating it gently, covering each inch in wetness. He smiled around the digit when he saw Matt inhale sharply.

 

“I d-don't want to just be u-used you know.”

 

“But I really like you Matt. I like hanging out with you, how you make me feel. You're fun and perfect.”

 

Alfred took it up a notch and swung a leg over so that he was straddling Matt's lap. He then ground his burgeoning erection down onto Matt.

 

Matt bit his lip and closed his eyes, “This is a bad idea.”

 

“No. It's a good idea,” said Alfred, reaching down to cup's Matt's significant bulge, “A really, really good idea.”

 

Matt's breathing quickened, sweat bloomed on his forehead, “Are you sure? Really, really sure.”

 

“Yes,” said Alfred and then leaned to whisper into Matt's ear, “You remember when we got drunk together? You can't remember all of what you said, but you admitted to preferring to top your partners.”

 

Those words, Alfred ended with a lick up Matt's neck.

 

“Uh...um...huh?”

 

“Well I want nothing more than to feel you fuck me.”

 

“I-”

 

“Remember 1812. I do. I remember invading York and pinning you down to try and invade you. But you turned the tables on me. You flipped me over and pinned me down; hissed threats into my ear. Remember?”

 

Matt was panting by then and hissed, “Yesss.”

 

“But when you invaded me later, you never once took me. You could have pushed me down into the mud and pounded my ass beside the banks of the Niagara River when my troops surrendered to yours. Remember? The battle of Queenston Heights?”

 

 

“I w-wa...”

 

Alfred didn't hear the rest of that. Just felt the brush of Matthew's lips against his cheek and the warm gust of air from his breath.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I wanted to. God but I wanted to take you by force for doing that to me,” said Matthew, calm and collected as he spun Alfred around and pinned him to the couch on his back.

 

Alfred stared at Matthew, who was over him, straddling him. When Alfred reached up to cup Matthew's face, Matt grabbed both of the American's wrists and pinned them to the arm of the couch.

 

“I've wanted to give you a what-for every time somebody mistakes me for you. Whenever somebody yells at me for something you've done. Would you like that?”

 

It was Alfred's turn to moan out breathlessly, “Yes. Punish me.”

 

Matthew dived forth and laid bites and nips down Alfred's neck and collarbone, easing the sting of teeth with the soft swipe of his tongue. The northern nation ground his hips down onto Alfred's, hard and unrelenting. They both gasped.

 

Letting go of his wrists for a moment, Matthew tugged off Alfred's shirt and then his pants, “Going commando are you?”

 

Alfred wanted to sound cool and make some sort of amusing quip about why he did it. But feeling so horny and desperate, all he could say was a vaguely coherent, “Yeah.”

 

“Stay there and tell me, do you have lube?” asked Matthew, voice filled with quiet confidence and firmness.

 

Alfred nodded, “In the front pouch of my luggage.”

 

Matt probably didn't take that long, but it felt that way to Alfred, whose cock was hard and exposed to the cool air. When Matthew was close, Alfred watched him take his own clothing off, piece by piece. Going so damn slow that Alfred felt himself whine. Each inch of skin that was exposed felt torturous.

 

“You're so hot,” said Alfred, quiet for once.

 

Biting his lower lip, Matthew didn't respond. Instead he walked over to Alfred, grabbed his legs and lifted them to expose him. The lowered his head and licked a hot path up Alfred's dick, catching a drop of white pre-cum with the tip of his tongue.

 

While Matt took the head of the cock into his mouth, Alfred heard the distinctive snick of a plastic cap being opened. Then, shortly after was a cool and slick finger at his entrance, probing.

 

Alfred reached down to stroke Matt's bobbing head, but as soon as he grazed the silken hairs, Matthew let the dick pop out.

 

“Did I say that you could move your hands eh?”

 

Words caught in his throat, Alfred slowly brought the hand back up to the armrest where it's partner lay. Matt sounded so arousing with his passive-aggressively calm voice that none-the-less dripped with command.

 

The finger thrust in to the first knuckle and Alfred licked his lips. Matthew went back down to sucking. Once the second finger was eased in, and hit his prostate, Alfred's eyes rolled to the back of his head.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

Alfred wanted to buck up into that scorching mouth, but the hands pinning him down further excited him.

 

“Too close,” said Alfred, and felt his erection slide out from between those soft lips.

 

As soon as Matthew was able to breach him with three fingers, he squirmed, “Please just do it. It's been so long since I've been filled. Almost five years. Please. Please. God.”

 

He didn't even care how weak others might find him. Alfred needed this. Needed to lose control like this for once. Oh god just for once. And he could trust this nation to do it.

 

Matthew paused and stared down at Alfred with unfathomable violet eyes, slowly lubing his own cock up.

 

Then he draped Alfred's legs over his shoulders and pushed in, inch by agonizingly thick inch. Matt was huge and Alfred couldn't help but hiss out in discomfort.

 

“Are you okay?” asked Matthew, pressing kisses against Alfred's jaw once he was sheathed all the way.

 

“Yeah. Just...pause for a sec.”

 

Then he nodded against Matt's shoulder that smelled faintly like maple trees, fresh mountain air and somehow like snow.

 

The first few movements were a gentle, in and out. But once Alfred was comfortable, Matt seemed to instinctively know, because the man began a harsh rhythm. A rough pounding and balls slapping against Alfred's ass, his prostate grazed every few thrusts.

 

Matt's hands moved to Alfred's wrists and gripped them tight, kissing everywhere that his lips could reach.

 

Except that when Matt's lips tried to touch Alfred's own, the American moved his mouth away. He just couldn't kiss. He didn't know why but he was just lucid enough amongst his pleasure to know that.

 

“Close,” cried Alfred before he felt his cock release onto his own chest.

 

Matt followed soon after, pulling out to finish on Alfred's belly, marking him, eyes glazed and lusty.

 

Alfred's eyes started to slide shut and after a while he felt himself being lifted, “Huh?”

 

“I'm just bringing you to bed,” whispered Matthew, settling him onto the sheets and covering him with a thick blanket.

 

“Was good,” said Alfred, feeling floppy and melting into the bed, “Lay with me like when we were kids?”

 

Matthew chuckled but did so, “That's a weird thing to say after what we just did.”

 

Alfred would have shrugged, but he was too close to sleep.

 

Just as he went under, he felt a kiss on his forehead.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a day early since it was ready and I had time to post it. Enjoy!

**Chapter 3**

 

 

Matthew was stupid. So very, very, very stupid.

 

Alfred was a taken man. By Arthur, who was a good friend and mentor to Matthew. He respected the much elder nation of the United Kingdom, England. Only a monster would willingly do what he'd been doing. Fucking another person's man.

 

But he couldn't stop.

 

Alfred was so hot. Every night he'd come onto Matt, beg and rub and plead with blue eyes so wide and shining so prettily. Matthew couldn't help but pin the man to the nearest surface and ravish him, deeply and thoroughly. The knowledge that he was taking one of the world's most powerful nations in such a way was intoxicating.

 

Though Alfred wasn't his. Not truly.

 

This point was made clear every time Alfred turned away and refused a kiss on the lips. Drove home by the forlorn look the man gave his cell phone whenever he remembered that it hadn't rung for him in days. In the desperate way that Alfred snuggled up to him after their sex.

 

On the last day that Alfred was to be there, Matthew actually got up earlier than he normally would. Even Alfred wasn't yet awake. Matthew knew this because he'd been staying in Al's place rather than renew his stay at the hotel.

 

He waited by a silly gift shop with a coffee in his hands and breath puffing from the chill in the air. As soon as the sign was flipped to say 'open' Matthew wandered in.

 

He had no idea why he was even there. It wasn't as if Alfred didn't already have anything he could possibly ever want. So what did Matt even plan to get.

 

Then he had an idea. He found a postcard of the mountains that also had a maple leaf on it. He bought a pack of maple cookies. Asking the cashier to borrow a pen, he wrote a quick message.

 

Then Matt decided to be the one to provide breakfast for once.

 

When he got back, Alfred was sitting up in bed and lazily rubbing his eyes. He blinked over at Matthew and smiled at the bags of food. Geez that man was so gorgeous. His entire body may as well have been sculpted from marble. Even his blond, sleep mussed hair was sexy.

 

“Hey thanks Matt,” said Alfred, walking over to the table in a pair of boxer shorts that had a huge picture of a cheeseburger on the front.

 

Matt hadn't seen Al put them on, having fallen asleep before the other man. Now he couldn't help but stare, “How are those both alluring and appalling at the same time?”

 

“These babies?” asked Alfred, framing his hips and then swaying them, “They're awesome is what they are.”

“I don't even know what to say.”

 

“Ask to eat my big beef?”

 

Matt chuckled, shook his head and finished setting out their food. It was the last meal they'd have together before Alfred went back to the States and forgot about him, as usual.

 

Beside the plate, Matt set the things he'd bought, wrapped in tissue papers.

 

Alfred stuffed several things in his face before he'd noticed the gift.

 

“Whatzit?” asked Al with his mouth full.

 

How was that so damn endearing?

 

“It's a little something I got you. No big deal. And before you bring it up, I know all this stuff is secret that we did. I'll never bring it up, I promise.”

 

Alfred sighed deeply as if the weight of the world was taken off of his shoulders, “Thanks man. I owe you one. Maybe I'll tell Arthur one day but not now when we're having so many problems.”

 

Matthew wanted to say that he though that keeping secrets was a problem in and of itself. But he kept his mouth shut as he usually did.

 

#

 

Alfred opened the small present. There was a pack of yummy looking maple filled cookies. Then there was the postcard. It had a pictures of one of Matt's mountains. Seen like this, in the form of a photo, the scenic picture almost seemed intimate. Like a nudie or something. On the back it said, “I had a great time. No matter what happens, or what you go through, I'll be there for you. So call me more, eh?”

 

“You could have just told me this. But I like the postcard anyway. Hot. And the cookies aught to be great.”

 

Matt shrugged and said, “Never know what to say. I would have mucked it up for sure.”

 

“Aww, it's alright. I like it,” said Alfred.

 

Not more than an hour later, they stood by their respective rental cars and shuffled their feet. Neither man really knew how to bid farewell to the other after a weekend of mind-blowing sex that could never ever happen again.

 

Actually. Screw it.

 

Alfred jumped forth and wrapped his arms around Matt, “Thank you so much for being here for me buddy. You don't know what it means to me.”

 

Matt hugged back and Alfred was pretty sure that the man took a deep smell of his neck, “S'okay. Try to work things out with Arthur okay?”

 

Alfred nodded.

 

And then they parted.

 

When Alfred looked back in the rear view mirror, he wondered if he saw a look of sadness on Matthew's face.

 

No. He was probably seeing things.

 

#

 

**One month later**

 

“Yo Artie! Your super awesome boyfriend is here,” called Alfred, all but skipping through the doors of the British nation's home.

 

“Hello Alfred. How was your flight?” said Arthur, meeting Alfred at the door and taking his coat to hang up.

 

“Eh. It was the same as always. They never give me enough food so I'm starved,” even though he'd grabbed a burger at the airport when they'd landed.

 

One burger was more of a snack really.

 

“Well I've cooked something.”

 

Alfred felt his face pale and was glad that Arthur had turned to go back into the kitchen. He couldn't believe that he'd actually liked Artie's cooking when he was growing up. Now he'd eaten other foods and knew the difference between right and wrong.

 

It wasn't that he didn't like British food. Most was actually pretty great and full of fried, yummy goodness. It was just that Arthur himself was a terrible cook. He had no sense of taste and burned everything he attempted.

 

So when Alfred came into the kitchen and saw the table set, plates filled with a delicious and properly cooked meal of a quiche and a salad, his jaw slackened.

 

“Did you order out?” asked Alfred, jaw dropped and he sat down on the cushioned wooden chair.

 

“No I did not you – I just didn't. I made that egg pie myself,” said Arthur, face flushed and mouth contorted as if he really wanted to say some kind of insult.

 

Alfred stared. Arthur hadn't insulted him since before the vacation that he didn't show up to. Now Arthur was cooking? Actual foods?

 

Alfred wanted to comment, but knew he'd be brushed off. He'd already asked Artie a number of times over the phone and Skype if he was feeling okay. So he latched onto the next best topic of conversation.

 

“Egg pie? It's called a quiche.”

 

“I know dam- yes I know. I'm not saying that stupid french word. It's bad enough that I've been-” said Arthur before popping up suddenly with wide eyes and changed the subject, “Would you like a coffee?”

 

“Coffee? You actually have some for once? Hell yeah I want some coffee,” said Alfred.

 

He was oblivious a lot of the time, but he did notice that Arthur had been about to say something. Alfred decided not to push it. This was the first time that they were getting together in ages. He didn't want to ruin this and make Arthur uncomfortable.

 

Furthermore, Alfred also felt so incredibly guilty for what he'd done during their anniversary. He was a cheater. Heroes didn't cheat on their damsels. That was what the villains did.

 

And he wasn't a villain.

 

Was he?

 

Suddenly he lost his appetite and began to slowly poke at his food. He hardly noticed when Arthur put a steaming cup of brew down in front of him, along with the cream and sugar.

 

All he knew was that he'd still texted Matthew ever since that week and called him. They hadn't brought up the sex. It was just a bunch of friendly conversations. They were, after all, neighbour nations. Alfred had been talking to Matthew on the basis of diplomacy. Really, that was all.

 

“Is it that terrible?” said Arthur, seemingly fascinated by the patterns in his tablecloth.

 

“Huh?” Alfred looked up to stare at his boyfriend and then start to spoon sugar into his coffee, “No it's great. I guess I'm just tired is all.”

 

More like guilty.

 

“Ah. Jet-lag. That's right,” said Arthur, appearing relieved.

 

“Yeah,” said Alfred, wondering if conversation between them had always been so hard.

 

No. That couldn't be it. They'd had good times before. They were just in a funk or a rut or whatever.

 

When Alfred excused himself to go to the restroom later on in the evening, he took out his phone. He was allowed to text people around Arthur, so he head no idea why he felt the need to hide this. Arthur had never been the jealous type. At least that Alfred knew of.

 

Sure it was Matt but their chats were innocent.

 

Me: Landed in B-dot safely since I know you wanted to know.

 

Not a minute later, his phone on vibrate and silent, he felt a message come in.

 

Matt: B-Dot?

 

Me: Britain, duh. That is where I was going y'know.

 

Matt: I know. I am coming there in a few days to the world meeting after all.

 

Matt: B-Dot just sounds so dumb btw...and doesn't make sense.

 

Me: Shut up. Oh, tho' Artie cooked edible food for once.

 

Matt: LOL, and that's a euphemism for what exactly?

 

Me: Nothing. He really did. A keish.

 

Matt: Huh?

 

Matt: Oh, I just said what you typed aloud. You meant quiche? It's french. I've made it before.

 

Me: I thought that Artie hated french food.

 

Matt: Me too.

 

Me: The weirdness never stops. Arg! I don't understand this world anymore.

 

Matt: Don't ask me. IDK.

 

Before Alfred could type out a response, a knock sounded on the door.

 

“Are you alright?” asked Arthur.

 

“Yeah, m'good.”

 

Me: I g2g. Miss you Mattie, so much.

 

Alfred didn't send it because he felt guilty saying that. So he deleted his words and tried again.

 

Me: I g2g. See ya dude.

 

But that didn't sound right either. Finally he just typed something and sent it without further thought. He wasn't doing anything wrong. He was just texting with a friend.

 

#

 

Matthew looked down at the phone as he sat at the desk in his home office and sighed when he read:

 

Alfred: Mattie...miss you...

 

#

 

Waiting in the airport for his plane to be ready for him to board, Matthew looked down at his phone. Alfred had been texting him often during his stay in the UK. Matthew honestly had no idea what to think.

 

He'd hoped that after his stay in Whistler and the colossally stupid and yet amazing time he'd had with Alfred, that he'd be done with whatever had overcome his senses. But Matthew could think of nothing but Alfred this and Alfred that. Wondering how the other man was doing and if he was feeling lonely. Matthew felt bad for thinking about some other person's partner in such a way.

 

Yet then he'd feel resentment for Arthur, who clearly wasn't treating Alfred the way he should. Couldn't Arthur see how he was neglecting Alfred? Matthew would take care of Alfred properly. Give him everything that he needed.

 

Of course this line of thoughts made Matthew feel even worse.

 

Arthur, while not always having been the best parental figure, had always tried his best. He'd raised Matthew and treated him fairly and with relative kindness.

 

Sighing, Matthew selected certain texts that Alfred had sent, skimming by his own responses.

 

Alfred: Arthur and I slept in the same bed. But he and I only kissed a couple of times.

 

Alfred: He won't use his tongue while kissing me. What the hell?

 

Alfred: We didn't have sex again. We tried to get somewhere but I'm sure that both of us wanted to the other to be the dominant one.

 

Alfred: He keeps looking at his phone instead of me. Am I not handsome anymore. Oh God I'm fat aren't I?

 

Alfred: Well thanks for saying I'm not fat but I am not doing the same thing to Arthur. I only check my texts when I'm in the bathroom or when Artie is not around.

 

Alfred: ...I did it. I topped him. Normal couples have sex right? So since neither of us wanted to top, somebody had to make the sacrifice. I love him after all. And the hero does whatever he can to make his partner happy, right?

 

Alfred: Mattie...I miss you.

 

Matthew heard the voice over the loud speaker at the airport declaring that his plane was ready for boarding. He turned off his phone and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans.

 

He really had no idea what to think.

 

#

 

The meeting went, as they normally did. Slow to start, as everybody woke up since the meetings started at, what Matthew had once heard Alfred call, 'the ass-crack of dawn'. However as nations became more alert, they grew more and more vocal. With that came irritability, conflict and downright chaos.

 

Around noon Ludwig's booming and strict voice announced that it was time for an hour and a half lunch. They used to be an hour but that had proven to not be enough time and nearly everybody except for the most anal of nations would arrive late.

 

Alfred, as usual, was his bubbly and dominant self. He always looked around the room with his head held high and never avoided another nation's eye. For some nations he would smile in a friendly fashion, the grin meeting his eyes and making them sparkle. Other nations, such as Russia, were given smiles as well, but with eyes that were shrewd and narrowed.

 

He oozed confidence from his every pore. There was no sign of the saddened man who was utterly confused by whatever his relationship was going through.

 

Matthew hadn't realized that he'd been standing and staring until he saw Alfred approached him with Kiku beside him, “Not for lunch dude. Maybe for supper?”

 

Alfred was talking to Kiku.

 

Kiku nodded and said, “Yes. It would be nice to catch up.”

 

“Maybe Matt can join us?” said Alfred.

 

Matthew played with one of the buttons on his shirt and stared at his feet when Kiku seemed to look through him and said, “Who?”

 

“Canada. Right here,” said Alfred, pounding Matt on the back and making him stumble forward.

 

Kiku nodded as if he remembered, though Matthew knew from experience that the other nation probably still didn't exactly recognize him, even if Kiku knew his country as a landmass. It often went that way. Even his friends would sometimes mistake him if they were particularly frazzled or absent-minded.

 

Alfred grabbed onto Matt's arm and together they walked out into the hallway, waving at others who went by.

 

Soon, Matt realized that they weren't going down a hallway that led to the cafeteria or to outside. There was actually nobody in sight. Alfred opened a door to an unused room and flicked on the lights since there weren't any windows. Once Matt stepped in Alfred locked the door behind him, set his bag down on a table, took off his suit jacket and then walked up to Matthew.

 

This time, his movements were slower and his gaze was to the floor. Matthew withheld a gasp at the change of demeanour.

 

“What are you doing?” asked Matthew backing up until he was against the wall.

 

As soon as Alfred was within a few feet of Matt, he dropped to his knees. He rested his large hands on his lap and continued to look down.

 

“Please. I need you.”

 

“Wh- Huh- It's- Huh?” stammered Matthew, turning around so that he could adjust himself.

 

The sight of Alfred on his knees with his head bowed submissively made his dick throb.

 

“I know it's wrong but I trust you. I crave you. I couldn't stop thinking of you, even when I was fucking Arthur, I was thinking of our times in Whistler,” said Alfred.

 

Matthew shook his head, “I can't do this to Arthur. He's a good friend.”

 

Alfred looked up and their eyes met. Matthew saw the shining vulnerability, the quivering of that lower lip.

 

“Can't you do it for me? We're also friends and I need you so much. I need this.”

 

Matthew was weak. He was so goddamned weak and he wanted to slam his own head against the wall. Instead what he did was move up so that the two men were less than a foot away. He reached down and cupped Alfred's chin with one hand and ran a hand through his hair with the other.

 

“You want this?” asked Matthew, pretending not to notice the bulge in Alfred's slacks.

 

“More than a hamburger, or pizza or that new video-” started Alfred but was cut off by Matthew putting his index and middle fingers over his lips.

 

“Shh,” said Matthew, moving the hand in Alfred's hair to run down the man's cheek, “If you want it, prove it to me.”

 

Matt undid the button of his pants but left the zipper up, “Only your mouth.”

 

The shudder than ran through Alfred and the flush of red that danced over his cheeks was so hot and cute at the same time.

 

Alfred did just that, easing the zipper down with a small amount of fumbling. He then used his teeth to tug down Matt's pants and briefs at the same time. At one point Alfred tried to whine, about the difficulty, Matt was certain, but didn't say anything and eventually, the bottoms fell to the ground by in a heap.

 

Matthew's erection popped free, head rosy and wet. Alfred licked his lips and lapped at the slit when Matt grabbed the base of his prick and aimed it at that hot mouth. Taking the tip between his lips, Alfred began to suck, softly and slowly at first but seemed to grow more and more confident as he went. Matt groaned at the heat surrounding him, the warm caress of the other's tongue.

 

Matthew kept up stroking Alfred's hair, rubbing around the rim of the other man's ear. He then grasped some of Alfred's hair and moved his head back, his erection freed and hitting the cool conference room air.

 

“Do you have lubricant and condoms?” asked Matthew, panting.

 

Alfred nodded eagerly and jogged to his bag where, at the bottom, were his stash of sex supplies. He didn't jump when Matthew moved to stand behind him, just leaned back, knowing where his neighbour was in a room at all times.

 

Matt took the condom from between Alfred's fingers and then gestured to the lube, “Prepare yourself.”

 

Any lingering doubts about whether he really wanted this fled at the sight of Alfred bent over the rectangle table, ass presented and two fingers thrusting in and out. He forgot all about being 'the other man' in somebody else's relationship. Just thought over and over about how desperately he craved that man in front of him.

 

Voice husky and deep with lust, Matt said, “Are you ready?”

 

There were four fingers in Alfred's ass now. Some couples would feel prepared at three fingers. Matt was so big that four fingers were required.

 

Alfred nodded and removed his fingers with a moan. Matthew looked at the glistening and quivering hole, ready. But he didn't plunge right in. He poised his tip right against Alfred's entrance after he sheathed himself with a condom and waited. He stroked up and down the man's back and then rested both hands on those soft and full ass cheeks.

 

“Matt, what are you waiting for?” whined Alfred, looking back while his fingers clenched into fists.

 

“Do you want me?”

 

“You know that I do.”

 

“Beg.”

 

“Please.”

 

Matt rubbed both soft globes and then said, “Not good enough.”

 

Even though Matt wanted nothing more than to plunge himself in to the hilt.

 

“Oh Mattie please I need you to fill me. Please.”

 

Pushing gently, Matt eased the very tip inside and then waited for Alfred to once again say, “More. I need more. I need you.”

 

That was all he needed to hear, for him to bury his entire length and to pick up a fast and hard rhythm. He saw Alfred struggle to not cry out, loud and wanton. Matt took off his tie and wadded it and then stuffed it into Alfred's mouth.

 

“Bite on that,” whispered Matt into Al's ear.

 

They moved until they were both close, so close. Their release washed over them suddenly and forcing then to shudder violently. Matt hadn't even needed to stroke Alfred's dick.

 

Matt leaned down to see Alfred's face, and pressed a kiss to the man's cheek and then slid free the tie. When he tried to press a kiss to the boneless and panting man's lips, Alfred rolled his head away in blatant refusal.

 

Shutting his eyes tight, Matt pulled out slowly. He wanted to pull out fast and sudden to try to slight Alfred in some way like the man had just done to him by not allowing the kiss. But he didn't. He wouldn't hurt Alfred like that.

 

He took off the condom, tied it, wrapped it up in a couple tissues and threw it into a trashcan. He took the box of tissues and wiped up Alfred who was still laying and letting out happy sighs.

 

“Thank you. Thank you. Mattie you're the greatest.”

 

Yeah? Then why won't you kiss me? That was what Matthew thought. But didn't voice the words that wormed through his mind. He sat down and ate some of the food that Alfred had packed for them in his bag.

 

#

 

Dinner that night couldn't have been more awkward.

 

At least that was Alfred's opinion, and normally he wasn't any good at sensing whether or not something was awkward.

 

Arthur had found out about dinner and decided to come along. Alfred, on one hand, was happy that Artie wanted to spend time with him. The Brit even let Alfred hold his hand under the table.

 

However there were a few factors that made the meal weird and uncomfortable.

 

First was Matthew. He was across the table and deadly silent. He wouldn't even meet Alfred's eyes. Alfred didn't know what to do. He felt torn. He was dating Arthur and wanted to be affectionate with him. But on the other hand, he didn't want Matthew to be upset. Not that he planned on thinking too deeply about the reasons why. He just satisfied his mind by thinking that he just didn't want to make his neighbour and good friend mad.

 

Then there was Francis. He was beside Matthew and across the table from Arthur. That guy was being more irritating than normal and kept glaring at Alfred for some reason. Alfred had no idea why, he'd hardly spoken to the Frenchman and none of the things he said at the meeting would have affected that nation negatively.

 

Kiku was there and had been accompanied by Feliciano and Ludwig. The Italian had invited himself along. Kiku was extra quiet for some reason and kept looking around at everybody. Ludwig looked simply not comfortable being there and Feliciano spoke non-stop.

 

Halfway through the meal, after Alfred had kissed a red faced Arthur, Matthew excused himself to go to the washroom.

 

Alfred didn't think anything of it until he saw Matthew try to sneak out of the restaurant.

 

Immediately, Alfred popped to his feet and looked down at Artie, “I'll be right back.”

 

He ran out and looked around. Not seeing the Canadian anywhere, he began to jog in the direction of the hotel that the nations had been booked to stay in. Very soon he saw the fast-paced man, hands stuffed into the pockets of his gray suit pants.

 

“Matt, wait!” called Alfred.

 

After walking a few more steps, Matt's shoulder's stiffened and he stopped. Alfred went up right behind him and tried to turn the man around.

 

“What's wrong?” asked Alfred, trying to get in front of Matt but the man just turned around again.

 

“Nothing eh. Just tired.”

 

It had been a long day. But something told Alfred that wasn't it.

 

“Please tell me,” said Alfred, reaching out for the other man's hand only to be shrugged away.

 

“It's nothing. Just go back to Arthur.”

 

Alfred blinked, “Well I will, once I know what's wrong with you. You looked annoyed the whole meal.”

 

“Gee I wonder why.”

 

“Well...Yeah...I am,” said Alfred, forehead crinkling up in confusion.

 

He wished he had some sort of idea what was happening but it felt like whatever it was flew out of his grasp.

 

“You're an idiot.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“A lovable, sexy idiot.”

 

Alfred scratched the back of his head. First Matt called him a name and then complimented him. What gives?

 

“Thanks. I guess. But come on. Tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”

 

Matt suddenly met Alfred's eyes and said, “Kiss me.”

 

Feeling the blood drain from his face, Alfred backed up a tad, “You know I can't. I'm with Arthur.”

 

Arms rising and lips frowning deeply, Matt said, “What the heck is the justification with that? You had my cock in your ass this afternoon and you won't kiss me because you're with Arthur.”

 

That did sound dumb. But Alfred already felt bad and didn't want to make this worse. He was already confused. So he just said, “Don't say that sound loudly. What if somebody heard you?”

 

Matt rolled his eyes and said, “As if I'd ever be too loud.”

 

That was true. But confirming that didn't seem like the best idea at the moment.

 

“I'm confused. I don't know what to think,” said Alfred, since telling the truth seemed like the way to go.

 

“Well consider this. Is what you are doing fair to either me or Arthur?” said Matt.

 

When Alfred didn't respond, Matthew turned after shaking his own head and walked away to his hotel.

 

Cold drops of rain began to fall, drenching his shirt since he'd forgotten his coat, plastering his hair to his face. After what seemed like ages, somebody tapped on his arm and placed their own coat over his shoulders.

 

It was Arthur.

 

“Why did you leave the restaurant?” asked Artie.

 

Alfred just shrugged and drew Arthur into a hug. It was comforting, in a way.

 

But it wasn't right.

 


	4. Chapter 4

# Chapter 4

  
  


Two months.

  
  


Two months of no texts. No e-mails or phone calls.

  
  


Utter silence.

  
  


And to say that Matthew was pissed off was an understatement.

  
  


He'd been forgotten by people before, even Alfred at times. He'd been overlooked and had people seem to see directly through him as if he were a ghost.

  
  


However, he'd never been purposely ignored in such a blatant way.

  
  


Matt and Alfred's bosses had met up once to discuss matters. Both nation personifications were required to attend.

  
  


Alfred F. Jones had looked right at him, met his eyes and then looked away. As if it was nothing.

  
  


It served to infuriate Matt even more.

  
  


He'd been used by one of his closest friends and his own neighbor. Used for sex and then tossed aside. It wasn't even that Matthew didn't understand because he did.

  
  


Alfred was dating another person; a good man. Of course, he wouldn't want to continue to cheat on his partner. He'd simply made a few errors in judgment.

  
  


Slipped up.

  
  


They were nations, but they were also human enough to make mistakes.

  
  


However, a call now and then wouldn't have hurt anyone. They should still be able to be friends. Right? Talk to each other? They were neighbours for crying out loud.

  
  


Matthew had tried to call a few times, e-mailed and even went over to Alfred's place himself. When he got to the front steps of Al's home in Virginia, he knocked at the door several times with no answer. Eventually, Alfred's alien friend, Tony opened the door.

  
  


The smaller, gray extraterrestrial swore under it's breath and blinked it's huge red eyes before saying, “Not here.”

  
  


Matthew looked to the side of the house and saw a pair of blue eyes peeking out from between the curtains. With his teeth gritting, Matthew stormed away.

  
  


If Alfred wanted to be an asshole, then let him.

  
  


Matthew didn't need him. They were still trading perfectly fine and that was what mattered. He'd gone years previously without talking to his dumb ass neighbour. He'd just do it again.

  
  


No problem.

  
  


Except that two months from the last world meeting was another. This one was scheduled to last a week and it was in Vienna, Austria. The hotel that had been booked for their cause didn't have enough rooms for every nation and it seemed that Roderich was too conservative with his money (stingy) to pay for a larger hotel. So some nations were paired up ahead of time.

  
  


Matthew didn't think too much about it. He had no idea who he'd end up paired up with and didn't care. He could get along with anybody after all.

  
  


He went into his hotel and took the bed closest to the window, which had a decent enough view. Kumajirou padded to the bed, hopped up and immediately fell asleep on the pillow. Snores drifted from the bear and his sweet little eyelashes fluttered against his white fur.

  
  


Matthew knelt by the bed and stared, enthralled by the sheer cuteness of his pet.

  
  


He didn't know how long he was there in such a way when the door to the room slammed open. A walking mass of luggage balanced with a tray holding pop from fast-food restaurants and a couple bags filled with what was likely to be burgers.

  
  


“Hey roomie, whoever you are! I brought food for us both. It'll be awesome,” said Alfred, not even looking at Matthew or even in his direction.

  
  


Matthew coughed to clear his throat and get attention directed to himself.

  
  


“The food's going to be great and there was a Mickey-D's nearby so it's still warm. Isn't it great that you can find them anywhere nowadays. Anyway, I brought a movie for us both to watch. You like action flicks right? What nation doesn't though, ammiright?”

  
  


“Al...”

  
  


“Didja get the papers for the new reform that what's his face is proposing? I left mine on the desk at home and I wanna look over them again before tomorrow so I need to borrow yours.”

  
  


Matthew walked up calmly behind Alfred and smacked the back of his head. Alfred rubbed his scalp and turned around with a scowl before his face softened.

  
  


“Oh. Matt. I didn't know that you and I were sharing a room,” said Alfred, looking away to the TV, “How've you been?”

  
  


Matthew crossed his arms and sat so hard down on the bed that Kuma was jostled and growled. The bear curled back up and feel asleep soon enough.

  
  


“You'd know how I was if you'd called me or answered your phone.”

  
  


“Sorry, been busy.”

  
  


Matthew just harrumphed and stared out the window.

  
  


Before long, he saw the paper bag of his portion of the food being placed beside him on the bed. A sorry looking Alfred sat on his own bed, slowly munching on a fry. Matthew sighed. Alfred never just nibbled on his food idly. He inhaled it with a grin on his face.

  
  


Even though he was still ticked, he'd have to forgive Alfred. Or at least talk to him. They were sharing a room for the next week after all and Matthew really didn't like seeing Alfred look so upset.

  
  


Getting the folder of papers he'd been asked to share, he handed them over to Alfred, “We can go and make a copy of them later if you want.”

  
  


Alfred seemed to see that for the peace offering that it was and smiled, “Thanks.”

  
  


#

  
  


Alfred could tell that Matthew was still quite annoyed. However, the Canadian, as usual, didn't say much of anything. Knowing from experience that pushing Matthew too hard was never a good thing, Alfred put on the movie.

  
  


The two men watched it, chatted playfully every now and then. Generally life as it normally was between them. With the exception of Matt staring at Alfred way too hard when he thought the other man wasn't looking.

  
  


They even wandered downstairs together and convinced the receptionist to allow the use of a photocopier in a small office down the hall from her. With a mega-watt grin like he had, he didn't have a problem at all. She even let them be in there by themselves.

  
  


Which really, hadn't been a good idea.

  
  


“Watch the door, I'm going to take a copy of my ass,” said Alfred, snickering.

  
  


Maybe he'd stick it into Ludwig's folders sometime tomorrow when he wasn't looking. Heh heh. That'd be a riot.

  
  


“No, what. Why?” said Matt whose eyes flashed from the door to Alfred who'd slid a chair up to the copier.

  
  


“Cause it'll be hilarious. Just do it,” said Alfred, already done the buckle of his belt, which was oval shaped with a silver eagle on it, and in the process of pulling down his pants.

  
  


“Are you five? Stop it,” protested Matt quietly.

  
  


The other man's voice had a weirdness to it that Alfred didn't understand because he was too busy trying to figure out how to best position his cheeks on the glass of the copier. He didn't even hear the lock snick shut or Matt silently glide over to him.

  
  


It wasn't until Matt's lusty eyes looked into Alfred's and both of the man's hands were on the inside of his thighs that he startled.

  
  


“W-What are you doing?”

  
  


“You have no idea what you do to me? Do you?” said Matt, so dark and seductive that Alfred wondered if he was the same person.

  
  


“I'm with Artie,” was the only response he could come up with, voice quavering.

  
  


“You were with him before eh. That didn't stop you then.”

  
  


“But I'm ah ah ah,” said Alfred, stuttering when Matt's hand brushed up higher and the backs of his knuckles were against his balls, “I'm trying to be faithful.”

  
  


“Then why did you sleep with me to begin with?” said Matt, sliding his free hand up Alfred's shirt.

  
  


“Moment of weakness,” said Alfred, breathy and squirming against the cool copier glass, wondering where the hell his meek and shy neighbour went.

  
  


Matt hadn't even been this straightforward in their previous encounters.

  
  


“Then why can't I have a moment of weakness right now?”

  
  


Alfred didn't have an answer to that. He felt as if whatever he said would damn him. This just plain and simply sucked. He squirmed down so that he was on the chair and not the copying machine, which had the added bonus of getting him away from Matthew's hands. However, Alfred also had to restrain the urge to whimper at the loss of contact.

  
  


“Can we go back up to the hotel room now Matt? I don't want to photocopy my ass anymore,” said Alfred, wincing at how weak he sounded, watching Matt's legs be propped up on the chair between Al's thighs.

  
  


Matt looked at his own hands and flushed, turning away from Alfred and nearly knocked over the chair in the process.

  
  


Alfred was able to get up and put on his pants. Then he made the copy that he needed and they were off.

  
  


Once they were back in the hotel room, Matthew cleared his throat.

  
  


“I'm so sorry about almost molesting you back there. I don't know what came over me.”

  
  


Alfred nodded, “It's all good.”

  
  


“No really. I had no right to touch you like that without your permission.”

  
  


Matt's eyebrows were furrowed and the man was pacing up and down the room. His hands were wringing in front of his body as he moved.

  
  


“Seriously. It's alright,” said Alfred, secretly thinking to himself that he wouldn't have told Matt to back off.

  
  


It's why he'd stayed away from Matthew for so long. Because as strong as Alfred was physically, he was also weak.

  
  


He wouldn't have stopped Matt from taking him in any way he saw fit. Alfred felt as if he was putty in the other man's hands. One day, Alfred knew, that Matt would discover just how much power he held.

  
  


Alfred was in free fall every time he looked at Matt.

  
  


And it made him feel helpless.

  
  


#

  
  


As always, Alfred woke up first. The hotel alarm clock bleeped incessantly and Alfred sat up in bed with a stretch. Matthew, of course, hadn't even flinched.

  
  


So after Alfred got together the stuff he'd need for a shower, he shoved the alarm closer to the other bed and didn't shut it off. Matt would need all the help he could get.

  
  


Setting his clothes and various hygiene products onto the rather wide counter of the sink, Alfred stripped out of the track pants that he'd slept in. He got into the huge shower and let out a pleased hum. Roderich may have been too cheap to pay for everybody to have their own room in a larger hotel, but at least the quality of this room was great.

  
  


The shower was giant and had multiple heads. It was perfectly hot and steamed up the stall.

  
  


Alfred heard the bathroom door open and assumed that Matthew had finally dragged his butt out of bed. Before he could say something about mornings, the stall door opened.

  
  


A bleary and slit-eyed Matthew stumbled into the shower. The man was mumbling something under his breath about not remembering that he turned on the shower. Matt shrugged and stepped under the stream of water on the other side of the large stall.

  
  


“Um, Matt?” said Alfred, quietly, because startling or pissing off a sleepy Matt in such close quarters with no room for a fast escape was suicide, “Dude?”

  
  


Matt blinked over at Alfred, hand already on his own morning wood. He blinked several times before he gasped and stepped backwards.

  
  


Unfortunately, Matt was only graceful with snow and cold related activities. In a slippery shower, he fell onto his ass, arms flailing for purchase and clutching onto Alfred.

  
  


Causing the naked American to fall right on top of Matt. Every wet and soapy inch of himself.

  
  


Both men stared at each other, eyes wide and not really able or wanting to move. Alfred had finally convinced himself to stop letting himself be with Matthew and then this kind of stuff kept happening.

  
  


Fate was just not cool.

  
  


Alfred leapt to his feet and laughed loud and in a way that even he knew sounded obnoxious. It was the first thing that came out of his mouth though.

  
  


“Loud,” moaned Matthew who stood up and then groaned in pain, “Oh my tailbone is killing me now.”

  
  


“Just lemme rinse off the soap and I'll get you some pain-killers.”

  
  


Alfred finished his shower faster than he ever had before in the history of ever, and he already took notoriously quick showers. It took every bit of willpower in his body not to sink down onto his knees in front of Matt and offer – no – beg to suck the other man off. He jumped out of the shower, stumbling and grabbing a towel before sinking down onto his own bed.

  
  


Alfred rested his head in his hands and tugged the strands. Being in the same room with Matthew was going to be a huge test of his willpower.

  
  


#

  
  


He couldn't believe it.

  
  


Every other nation had plans after the meeting that first day. Arthur was busy with a “previously agreed to engagement with Austria, so very sorry”, which annoyed Alfred but there wasn't much he could do about it.

  
  


Kiku had been about to agree to go to dinner or something with Alfred but then Heracles came up, cats dangling off of every part of his body. The smaller, Japanese man paled and then ran away. Heracles just sauntered after Kiku in some sort of slow motion run. It reminded Alfred of Pepé Le Pew, but Greek instead of French.

  
  


Feliciano was busy trying to calm his brother, Lovino, down when Spain went off to have fun with the 'bad-touch-trio' instead of going on a date with him. Though the Southern half of Italy kept insisting that he didn't give a shit what that 'Tomato-Bastard' did. Toris had Feliks practically swinging off of his arm. Alfred had considered asking them to hang out with him, but he turned right around when he heard the Polish man talk about going shopping for clothes and panties for himself and getting Toris to try some on. Alfred had nothing against cross-dressing, but really didn't want to see his Lithuanian friend in any kind of lacy undergarment.

  
  


Tino had Berwald looming over him. Eduard had left before Alfred even thought to hang out with him and would probably have turned him down in favour of reading a book anyway.

  
  


Right when he started wondering if Ivan was free that evening, Alfred started to shake his head. Just because he and the Russian could be in the same room with one another without glaring or killing each other these days doesn't mean that he needed to start hanging out with the man.

  
  


At some point, Matthew must have wandered away. Alfred saw him chatting with the personification of the Netherlands. Clenching his jaw, Alfred resigned himself to a night by himself. It wouldn't be that bad really, he had his portable game system and a bunch of paperwork to go over for the next day. He'd order a large pizza for himself and buy a case of coke.

  
  


He'd be great. Not lonely at all. It wasn't as if he had the rights to tell Matthew to spend the night with him since he'd purposely avoided asking him. And he was most definitely NOT jealous.

  
  


He was almost out of the conference building when he heard the sound of light footsteps tapping rapidly towards him. There was a quiet and breathy panting before Alfred heard, “Wait up eh. We're going to the same place after all.”

  
  


Alfred couldn't help but smile and bounce on the balls of his feet, “I thought you were going to hang out with Tim or whatever.”

  
  


Matthew pointed to the door and Alfred took that as a desire to walk and talk.

  
  


“No, we were just doing a bit of catching up. He has plans with his brother and sister. So I don't have anything to do tonight.”

  
  


Alfred wasn't going to complain about that. After all, he had tried to avoid temptation. However, if fate planned for him to hang out with Matthew tonight...well who was he to say no.

  
  


#

  
  


Thankfully though. Nothing sexual seemed to want to be brought up by either man. They sat together on the same bed and watched some movies. Every now and then they'd bicker or playfully swat at each other. Fun times.

  
  


They were full on pizza and reclining, eyes trained on their third movie of the night when Alfred got a text.

  
  


Artie: What are you wearing?

  
  


Alfred chuckled at the screen of his phone. Well, well! Maybe he wouldn't have to face temptation after all. Arthur's meeting or whatever must have been over.

  
  


Me: My dress shirt and pants.

  
  


Artie: What's on under those?

  
  


Hmm? The Brit must be drunk. Alfred almost always had to initiate sexy talk. Oh well. Alfred wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  
  


Me: Boxers.

  
  


Artie: Oh really? I didn't know you wore those. Sexy.

  
  


Brows knit together and a frown tugging his lips downwards, Alfred just stared at the glowing screen on the phone. Alfred only ever wore boxer shorts. He always commented on how freeing they were and how soft they felt on his junk. Arthur always complained about having that sort of conversation.

  
  


Matthew tapped his shoulder and asked, “Are you feeling alright? You didn't have too much pizza did you? I could probably ask room service if they have some antacids.”

  
  


Alfred shook his head, “I'm fine. Artie's just drunk and being weird.”

  
  


Me: I only ever wear boxers, it's like my motto or whatever. How much have you had to drink?

  
  


Quashing down the strange feeling that he got in the pit of his stomach, Alfred returned to watch the movie. He couldn't focus. His attention was divided and he felt his fists clench. He didn't even realize that he'd torn into one of the comforters and ripped the fabric until Matthew's hand was on his.

  
  


“Are you sure you're okay?” asked Matthew.

  
  


Alfred shrugged. Because he really didn't know. Thoughts and ideas flickered at the edge of his consciousness, but he didn't allow them to get closer, quashing them before they could manifest.

  
  


When he felt Matthew's deceptively strong arms wrap around him and draw him into a hug, he sighed deeply and melted into that embrace. It was so comforting, so nice and Matt smelled amazing. Matt kissed the top of Alfred's head and stroked down his back.

  
  


It was sheer bliss and he sunk closer until his head rested on Matt's chest and he could hear his heartbeat. Alongside the 'ba-dump, ba-dump' of Matt's heart was also something that sounded like the rushing of rivers; or a chill wind blowing over the leaves of maple trees; the lone cry of a loon, all so faint that he had to listen very closely.

  
  


Never, not once, had Alfred heard anything of the sort when cuddled to Arthur. Only ever a steady thudding of a heartbeat.

  
  


At that moment, Alfred forgot everything. He stopped being anything but America, connected intrinsically to Canada from coast to coast. It was soothing and he slowly, but surely, found himself drift to sleep.

  
  


#

  
  


A second day of meetings, all boring. The only light of the day thus far had been waking up in Matthew's arms and then later that day, giving his speech. Alfred had thought that he'd done a great job with his talk and all of his suggestions. However, apparently the idea of attaching solar reflectors to a million birds and sending them high up into the sky to reflect back some of the sun's rays wouldn't help stop global warming. And also 'No Alfred, drilling into the moon Europa isn't going to solve our concerns for fresh drinking water'.

  
  


These people had no sense of adventure or imagination.

  
  


At least nobody had complained about his ideas to help solve world hunger. That was a subject Alfred could empathize with and had given a lot of thought. He knew that he hated being hungry so he couldn't imagine what people who were actually starving had to go through.

  
  


He'd beamed ear to ear when Matthew had patted his arm and whispered that he'd been amazing. Alfred had even shared half of his candy bar with Matt.

  
  


After the day was done, Alfred jogged to catch Arthur by the arm, “Hey baby. Wanna go out tonight? I missed you.”

  
  


Alfred saw his boyfriend's eyes dart, just for a split second, over to the side while his fists clenched. Then they focused back onto Alfred and Arthur gave him a wobbly smile.

  
  


“O-of course. Why not?” said Arthur, saying the words as if they had to be forced from him

  
  


Alfred wondered why Arthur was doing that and then just shrugged. He was probably tired from sitting in the meeting all day long. He took the man's hand, turned and waved to Matthew, who gave him a weird look and then they were off. They held hands down the street even though he could tell that Arthur didn't exactly want to.

  
  


Alfred felt bad about sharing his bed with Matthew that night and cuddling up to him. He would hate if Arthur had done something like that with somebody else. He felt a huge weight of guilt on his shoulders, so Alfred wanted to really make Arthur relax and give him a great night.

  
  


They went to a nice restaurant, one that he knew Arthur would approve of. It wasn't too fancy but not fast food. It also served good beer, which both nations could appreciate. Their conversation even went well. At least Alfred had thought so.

  
  


That is until Arthur said, “You haven't stopped talking about Matthew this evening. You two have been getting along well then have you?”

  
  


Alfred stopped his fork half-way up to his mouth with a large bite of cake on it. He let it fall to the plate with a clatter, the food flinging off and tumbling to the ground.

  
  


“Whaddya mean? Haha I don't know what you're talking about,” said Alfred, suddenly desperate to stand up.

  
  


Arthur cleared his throat, “It was simply a question.”

  
  


“I dunno. Why were you drunk texting me last night about what I was wearing?” said Alfred, cringing as he knew that he was about to start a fight and helpless to stop himself.

  
  


“Aren't you always whining for me to take charge in things? So I did,” said Arthur, narrowing his eyes.

  
  


“You know that wasn't what I was talking about. Why the weird question about the underwear? You know I wear boxers,” said Alfred.

  
  


“Why would I pay attention to such a weird detail?”

  
  


“You've bought me underwear a number of times in the past and you always make sure to get me boxers.”

  
  


“This is a stupid argument,” said Arthur, taking a large drink of his beer and not meeting Alfred's eyes.

  
  


Taking a deep and cleansing breath, Alfred said, “You're right. I'm being childish. I'm sorry.”

  
  


“It's quite alright.”

  
  


The rest of the night was rather quiet and somewhat awkward. Alfred's phone received a few texts and when he saw out of the corner of his eyes that the screen flashed that it was from Matthew. Arthur's phone also went off and the Brit always checked it under the table.

  
  


They went back to the hotel soon after, Alfred walking Arthur to the room he was staying in. Just as he leaned over Arthur and went in for a kiss, he saw it.

  
  


Under the collar, hidden from view unless somebody got right up close, was a dark red mark.

  
  


Red and in the shape of a mouth.

  
  


Alfred stumbled back.

  
  


“Alfred?” said Arthur, “What's going on?”

  
  


“You have a fucking hickey.”

  
  


Arthur's face reddened and it was as if the floodgates were broken from all of the over politeness and lack of snarkiness, “What the hell are you on about you bloody git?”

  
  


Alfred's hand darted out before he could think and ripped a few of the tops buttons of Arthur's shirt, dislodging the tie enough to expose Arthur's lower neck and collarbone. It was covered in red marks and lovebites. The Brit snarled.

  
  


“How dare you? In the middle of the hallway!”

  
  


“You're fucking cheating on me?”

  
  


Alfred felt as if he should be relieved. It would mean that he hadn't done anything too horribly wrong when he himself cheated. But right then, all Alfred could feel was betrayal and a sharp pain in his chest.

  
  


Arthur didn't look as if he had much more come back than, “I am not.”

  
  


However right when the Brit said those three words, a lilting french voice came from down the hall and said, “Yes. He is.”

  
  


Francis Bonnefoy glided over to stand defiantly beside Arthur. He stared at Alfred as if daring the superpower to say or try anything. And oh God did Alfred ever want to.

  
  


So he did.

  
  


He drew back his fist and let it fly, hearing the crunch of bone and the yelp from Francis. The bastard fell to the carpeted ground and Alfred was on him in an instant, punching him once more before Arthur grabbed onto one arm and somebody else had ahold of his other.

  
  


Alfred still went forward, dragging the two nations that tried to restrain him. Antonio helped up Francis, whose nose was bleeding by then and with a cheek that had a terrible bruise already blooming. Arthur stood in front of Francis and glared at the Frenchman before sighing in resignation and looking back at Alfred.

  
  


“He's not wrong,” said Arthur.

  
  


There were many things that he wanted to say, to yell. But a crowd of other nations had begun to gather and Alfred, for once, didn't feel like making a scene. He didn't want the world to see how humiliated he'd just been.

  
  


He really hoped that he'd broken more than France's nose. Hopefully his jaw if he got lucky.

  
  


As soon as he turned around, he saw Matthew peeking his head out of their room and Alfred stalked towards it. Alfred kept his back straight and his shoulders stiff. He glared at people who looked at him too hard or with pity in their eyes.

  
  


Yet as soon as he went through the door and locked it, he became a new person. He collapsed into Matthew's arms with a hitched breath.

  
  


“It hurts. I don't care if it makes me a hypocrite. I hate this,” he said, nuzzling close to Matthew.

  
  


Matthew didn't say anything, he just stroked down Alfred's back, up and down, giving the occasional kiss to his forehead. Alfred felt those strong arms circle him tight and draw him away from the door and towards the bed. He was laid down.

  
  


As Matt tried to walk away from the bed, Alfred whined and reached out for him.

  
  


“I'll be right back. Okay Alfred? I just need to get something okay,” said Matt, flashing a small smile back at the American.

  
  


As Alfred lay back and stared at the creamy white hotel ceiling, he heard a rush of water and some quiet shuffling from the bathroom. His mind felt so overloaded that Alfred could no longer think. The pain in his chest hadn't quite gone away, but he felt so reassured when the bed dipped from Matthew's weight.

  
  


Matthew gently cradled Alfred's hand in one of his own and wiped it clean of the blood speckled upon the knuckles. The Canadian did this with the next hand as well. So slow and caring that Alfred bit down upon his wobbling lower lip. Matthew took a dry cloth and wiped the tears that Alfred hadn't even been aware were falling.

  
  


“Mattie,” asked Alfred in that voice that he knew sort of made him sound childish, but he didn't even care, “Hold me?”

  
  


“Of course,” said Matthew, lay down beside Alfred and wrapping him up close in his arms.

  
  


Matt pressed a kiss to Alfred's forehead, both of his cheeks. They paused for a moment. Alfred knew in the back of his mind what Matthew was wanting. Alfred felt his eyes slide closed. He didn't want to kiss on the lips. He didn't even fully know why. He just felt so vulnerable.

  
  


But the kiss on his lips never came or was even attempted. Just another to his forehead and then Matthew settled down to sleep beside Alfred.

  
  


“Thank you, Matt,” said Alfred as he felt his eyelids fall shut.

  
  


“Anything for you.”

  
  


And both men fell deep asleep to face whatever the next day threw at them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that the way I've taken this doesn't make anybody sad. I can totally understand why'd any of you might be sad about it not being Us/Uk. I don't even usually care for that pairing and I was sad to do this. Next chapter will have some of Arthur's point-of-view because I feel like perhaps I've vilified him too much.. It will all work out for everybody in the end.
> 
> I know I had more to say but I only got two hours of sleep last night and my brain isn't working.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. As always I love your kudos and comments. I read them all. I should explain that I am painfully shy and have a fairly severe social anxiety. So please know that I appreciate anything you take the time to say to me, even if I don't write back, or only say a little bit. :)
> 
> I hope to get the next chapter out after a week as normal, however it's been giving me trouble. Add that to that fact that everything has been super busy - bah. It's a few pages long already but I'm iffy about it. Let's hope for inspiration bunnies to come to me.

Chapter 5

 

“What the bloody hell were you thinking?” snapped Arthur, pacing in front of the bed and it's only occupant.

 

Francis, who was sitting up and holding an ice pack to his nose was frowning and quite clearly pouting.

 

“I was thinking that I was tired of hiding our relationship,” said Francis, voice distorted slightly because of his broken nose and puffy lower lip.

 

Storming off to glare out the window at the twinkling lights of downtown Vienna, Arthur said, “I know you were.”

 

Letting his fingers trail down the cool glass of the windowpane, Arthur let his eyes shut tight. He hadn't been the one who'd' been attacked, but it hurt none the less. Though he rarely ever admitted to such, he did love Alfred. Still did in a way. The two of them had been together for quite a while after all. Arthur and Alfred had their ups and downs of course.

 

America's Revolution came to mind as a clear example of their bickering. There was more, of course, so much more. But there'd also been good times.

 

Running together under a blue sky and falling together to gaze at the clouds. Teaching a young Alfred who was still his colony about beer and letting him have his first taste. Teaching the lad how to hold and fire a musket and also how to properly use various blade weapons to defend himself if he couldn't use that strength of his.

 

Finding each other after the world wars and renewing their friendship. Having it lead to more and more and then dating and sex.

 

So when Francis came around always there but different somehow; oh that damnable Frenchman and all of his charms. Arthur had felt torn.

 

“ _Oi! What're you doing here?” said Arthur, gesturing with a cigarette and accidentally letting some ash fall onto his dress pants._

 

_Brushing the grey soot away, Arthur glared up at Francis, who leaned against one of the trees that grew along the outskirts of the latest meeting hall. The weather was dismal, but Arthur didn't care. At least the meeting was taking place in London and Arthur could feel comforted by his home._

 

“ _I was wondering what you were doing Angleterre. You had seemed eager to escape from the meeting even though you are the host.”_

 

_Arthur shrugged and said, “Well it isn't as if Alfred wouldn't be content to take over. Even though that's the only place he'll do so with such vigour.”_

 

_One immaculately groomed brow rose and Francis threaded his own slender fingers together and said, “What was that last thing?”_

 

_Arthur paled when he realized what he'd almost blurted out in front of Francis of all people._

 

“ _None of your concern you arsehole. Leave me be,” demanded Arthur, taking another sweet drag of his cigarette, watching the smoke drift up to the grey clouds above._

 

_Of course, Francis did no such thing. Frankly, it would have surprised him if the Frenchman had listened._

 

“ _You've been rather uptight recently mon cher. Or should I so, more than usual,” said Francis, sidling up to stand beside Arthur and drape an arm across the Brit's slumped shoulders._

 

_Arthur viciously swatted the pest away and tried for a snarl. It came out as a pathetic, “Why the hell aren't you off gallivanting with the two idiots you call friends?”_

 

_Francis placed his hands gracefully in his own lap and sighed, “Toni is busy with his little half of Italy and Gilbert isn't here of course. You know that he is still recovering from his stay with Ivan. The wall fell only five years ago.”_

 

_Mumbling a few halfhearted apologies to Francis for being so callous about the man's friend, Arthur went silent for a while. He lit up another ciggy when his first was done and offered one to the frog, who had yet to move, but was staying blessedly silent for once in his damned life. Francis leaned back on the bench they sat on and breathed in the smoke._

 

“ _Does Alfred not provide for you what you need?”_

 

“ _Go die in a fire.”_

 

“ _Arthur, look at me,” said Francis, voice firm and commanding but with a deep undertone of sensuality, “I'm being serious. I can give you what you need.”_

 

_Arthur swallowed deep and for just a brief moment allowed Francis' fingers to danced along his jawline. He pushed the other nation away and said, “He's all I need.”_

 

Of course Arthur should have known that Francis wouldn't leave well enough alone. Behind him, he listened as Francis popped a cork in a bottle of wine and poured himself a drink. A slender glass of wine was placed beside Arthur though Francis didn't speak a word. Arthur hummed his thanks and fell back into his memories.

 

_Nine years had gone by since that moment under a dismal sky where Francis had propositioned him. Arthur was no stranger to Francis asking him for sex. The frog did that to just about everybody. But it had been different that time and both nations knew it._

 

_And Francis didn't stop his relentless pursuit._

 

_First were the flowers. More roses were sent to Arthur's home than he thought could possibly have even been grown in France. Arthur had to hide the blossoms in his basement when Alfred had come over once._

 

_Somehow Francis always knew when the American would be visiting._

 

_Chocolates, flowers, and various gifts of clothing and baubles would be sent during Alfred's stays in London. All of them addressed to Arthur with no indication of the sender. But Arthur knew._

 

_How in the world Alfred hadn't figured out that Arthur had somebody pursuing him, he'd never know. The boy was simply oblivious he supposed. He was also easily distracted by the chocolates._

 

_Arthur found himself oddly flattered by the gifts. Some of them were quite thoughtful. A scarf as soon as Arthur's favourite one had started to wear thin. A tin of his favourite tea when he'd run out. A charming unicorn figurine made of crystal._

 

_Finally, four years into the new millennium, nine years into the Frenchman's unrelenting pursuit, Arthur agreed to go out. But not on a date. It was simply as friends._

 

_After all, he was in love with Alfred, who was very sweet, kind and rather handsome. And he most certainly had no feelings for a certain nation across the channel, with his snail-slurping, frog leg munching, and perverted laughter._

 

_Arthur expected that wherever Francis would take him would be less than exciting. They'd probably go to some pompous french restaurant and then to some kind of love hotel or something._

 

_So Arthur had been surprised that Francis took him to a concert. The band wasn't one he'd heard before, but Francis had heard that they were good. Arthur had no idea where the Frenchman would have heard such a thing but decided not to ask._

 

_They had fun in the small venue, drinking over priced beer (wine for the frog) and listening to the french rock music. Afterwards, they walked through the streets of Paris and simply talked. There was bickering, of course, but it didn't hold the same venom as it normally did._

 

_The conversation was actually quite pleasant and they had a fair bit to speak of, it seemed._

 

_The night ended with Francis escorting Arthur to his hotel and giving him a single, chaste kiss on the cheek._

 

_If Arthur had of known what was good for him, he would have ended things there. He would have smacked that frog away, perhaps cursed his home, and fled back to London._

 

_But he didn't._

 

_Arthur walked over to the bed and sat next to Francis, laying his head on the Frenchman's shoulder._

 

_He didn't go back home right away. Instead, he answered the phone call that Francis made to him later that evening._

 

_And went on another date with the man._

 

_After nearly a week in Paris, and with Arthur needing to really get back to his home to do work that he couldn't complete using his laptop, Francis requested one more outing._

 

_Arthur agreed, though everything felt different, yet he had begun to trust Francis, even if just a little bit._

 

_They went to a building and around to the side of it. There was a door and Francis rapped upon it thrice. A bouncer opened the door and nodded to Francis, letting them both down the stairs._

 

_Now Arthur had lived a long time. He'd seen a lot of things, and had a lot of sex. However, there was one kind of sex that he'd never had, simply because there hadn't been anybody that he'd trusted to do it with._

 

_The basement of the place Francis had taken him was a dungeon. There were two St. Andrew's crosses set up, restraining a man in leather in one and a nude woman in another. A man was draped over a bench on the far end and being whipped. A woman was strung up and hung from the ceiling in a series of complicated bondage system of knots and twists._

 

_Arthur stopped in the doorway and watched, frozen and breath stuttering._

 

“ _Is this the sort of thing that you like?” Francis whispered into Arthur's ear._

 

“ _Pervert...” muttered Arthur halfheartedly, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip._

 

“ _I can tell. I hear your breathing increase. Is it the idea of being tied up in an intricate series of knots? Chained to a cross? Lashed with a whip until your skin is covered in a pattern of red marks? What is it?”_

 

_They made their way to a sitting area where they could watch the erotic scene in front of them._

 

“ _Was this whole week, all these years, a ploy to get in my pants?” said Arthur with only a tad more conviction than he actually felt._

 

_Francis shook his head, “Non. I took you out because I want you, not just for sex.”_

 

“ _How did you even know that I...?” said Arthur, hiding his flushed face in his hands._

 

“ _Well, you've said it more times than I can count. I'm a pervert, right?”_

 

“ _Go to hell, that isn't it.”_

 

_Francis wasn't touching Arthur and that was a good thing. Arthur knew himself well enough to know that he'd bolt as soon as he was touched right then._

 

“ _Because I know you. I've known you for nearly two thousand years, Arthur. And I can give you what you need. I love you.”_

 

The hotel bed was soft and Francis ran his fingers through Arthur's unruly blond hair. The Brit closed his eyes and hummed in contentment. Though he'd never admit it verbally unless he and Francis were playing a scene and that was what the other man requested, Arthur loved to cuddle. How had it taken him nearly two millennium to realize how comfortable and warm Francis was?

 

Of course, it hadn't been that easy for Arthur to just give in. As much as he'd wanted to, there was still the guilt and the love he had for Alfred.

 

_He and Francis had parted ways shortly after visiting the dungeon and had kept in touch of course. Arthur wished that he could say that he'd waited a long while, and had tried to ignore the frog some more._

 

_Yet he lasted a month before he found himself back on Francis' doorstep once more, luggage in hand and pounding his fist on the door._

 

“ _Oui?” said Francis before he even saw who it was._

 

_As soon as the recognition hit his eyes Francis lit up and grabbed Arthur's wrist, gently luring the other man inside._

 

_Arthur followed and let himself be seated on a chair that looked impractical but was surprisingly comfy. It reminded him a lot of Francis himself to be honest._

 

“ _You wish to take me up on my offer mon cher?” asked Francis, draping himself over the back of the chair and purred the words in Arthur's ears._

 

“ _So what if I have? I thought that you were all about love and passion. I didn't think you'd be into BDSM,” sneered Arthur, vastly uncomfortable and feeling far too on the spot._

 

“ _I am an advocate of all forms of love, and I like to practice it in all of it's forms. Clearly you have not had a proper teacher,” said Francis, perching himself on the arm of the chair and peering down at Arthur._

 

_Swallowing, his throat feeling thick, Arthur clenched his hands into the fabric of his pants and refused to meet Francis' eyes._

 

“ _So what are you proposing?” said Arthur._

 

“ _First, that you look at me.”_

 

_The voice had come out firm and commanding and reminded Arthur of the Francis of all of the wars previous. Ones in which Arthur had fought the man and won, some also lost. Other nations would seem to sometimes forget just how dangerous Francis could truly be, even if he hadn't been so in an obvious way in a while. The memories made Arthur flush._

 

_He kept staring at his hands._

 

“ _Look at me,” came the order._

 

_When Arthur tried to refuse a second time, Francis grabbed his chin and forced it towards him. His blunt and perfectly manicured nails dug into his flesh. Arthur met those blue eyes and let out a single deep whoosh of breath._

 

“ _Good. Now. You will respect me when we are in the privacy of our own homes. I don't care what you do in public, but in the bedroom I will be in charge. That is how this works.”_

 

_Arthur snorted at the presumptuousness of that statement._

 

“ _What makes you think that I respect you?” said Arthur._

 

_A hand wove it's way into his hair and tugged it back, just painful enough to sting as Francis bored his own eyes into Arthur's._

 

“ _Is that not why you came here? Because you trust and respect me enough to do this for you? Well...if you have made a mistake in coming here, you know where the door is.”_

 

_And then Francis let go and waltzed away as if he had just said nothing. The Frenchman grabbed a glass of wine that had been sitting out and a book. They the man settled in upon a window seat and gracefully drank as he turned the pages of his novel._

 

_Slowly, but surely, Arthur stood and shuffled his way over to be right next to Francis._

 

“ _Alright.”_

 

“ _Hmm, what was that?”_

 

“ _I want to do this with you.”_

 

_Francis shifted on his seat to make room for Arthur and then patted the cushion beside himself, looking up at Arthur expectantly._

 

Shivering at the memory, but in the best of ways, Arthur felt that Francis had gone slack. He felt the slow rise and fall of the man's chest and his eyelid shut in sleep. He extracted the empty wineglass from his lover's slack grip.

 

Arthur got into his sleep clothing and lay down beside Francis after covering the man with a blanket.

 

Before he knew it, Arthur had been seeing Francis on a regular basis. More than just when Alfred left after a vacation. Francis wasn't pleased with having to share Arthur. Who knew the Frenchman could be so possessive what with all of the spouting off the frog did about free love and all of that.

 

Arthur hated lying to Alfred because the man was his boyfriend. More than that. The two of them were friends and he did love the American.

 

But the thought of not seeing Francis made his chest hurt. Not once did Francis give Arthur an ultimatum. Though Arthur knew how much Francis hated it. How much Francis had begun to loathe Alfred.

 

For once in his long life, Arthur had no idea what to do. No matter what choice he made, he'd have to hurt somebody that he cared about.

 

And then Francis went and did that. What he did tonight and just blurted out everything.

 

Arthur rolled over to his side and watched Francis sleep.

 

What in the world happened now?

 

#

 

Alfred's eyes cracked open and he stretched out his sore muscles. Every limb in his body felt as if it were weighted down and he didn't want to leave the bed.

 

He had to, however because there was a meeting in a couple of hours and he needed to be there.

 

The events of the previous night came crashing back to him and he groaned. Beside him, Matthew pawed on Alfred's side of the bed and mumbled something under his breath.

 

He cracked his sleep violet eyes, pink lips parted adorably.

 

Alfred leaned down into Matt's face and said, “What do I do Mattie? How to I prevent myself from killing Francis?”

 

After smacking his lips and rubbing his eyes, Matthew said, “You can try to remember that doing so might start an international incident. Arguing in the hallway after a date is one thing. Actual serious physical harm at a world meeting is different.”

 

Of course, the actual words that came from Matt's mouth were mumbled and all jumbled together but Alfred caught the gist of what was spoken.

 

“I know. But I'm pissed. He took away my boyfriend.”

 

“Francis wasn't the only one to blame you know. Arthur is a grown man and can make his own decisions.”

 

“Yeah. I know. But I love him.”

 

Matthew sat up as well and rested his forehead against Alfred's back, “Yes. I know. That is why you need to tread lightly. Because you don't know what is going on in this situation.”

 

Alfred patted Matthew's knee behind him and then got up. He got out one of his suits, a charcoal grey one with faint pinstripes and set it on the spare bed. Matt dragged himself from the bed and trudged around the room.

 

They started the coffee maker going with some grounds that Matthew had brought in and drank the brew black with a few of the spare sugar packets that were in the room. Matthew coughed and Alfred knew that the man was trying to get his attention.

 

Reluctantly, Alfred peeked up and bit his lower lip.

 

“Promise me that you won't freak out again when you see Francis,” said Matthew, capturing Alfred' gaze and holding it prisoner.

 

Since he appeared to be unable to look away, Alfred fidgeted on the too hard armchair, “I don't know if I'll be able to restrain myself.”

 

Matthew reached out and put his hand over the Alfred was using to hold the cup and said, “If you promise me, I know that you'll be able. One thing I can say about you for sure is that you are loyal.”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Of course,” Matt's hand slipped away and gulped the rest of his own coffee before getting ready to go.

 

Alfred poked his head into the bathroom when he heard the shower running and said loudly, “Okay. I promise I'll be good.”

 

#

 

Once Matthew had the promise that he sought from Alfred, he wasn't surprised that the man behaved. Oh sure, there were a number of quite scathing glares sent the way of the Frenchman. Not one word was uttered.

 

All of the other nations were wary as they tended to be when a massively powerful nation was pissed off at something (especially if that something was another nation who also had a decent sized arsenal of nukes). Nuclear war was not something to joke around about and nobody wanted to push the two glaring nations over the edge into a mutually-assured destruction.

 

Matthew thought that he would have never seen the day where he'd miss Alfred's over the top speeches and Francis' constant flirting and his subtle insults towards those he deemed inferior. But the silence was unnerving to Matthew, who had grown up with those two.

 

He breathed a sigh of relief when the meeting came to a final end. Francis tried to leave immediately but was held back by Arthur. The two exchanged a few furious whispers and glares before Francis grumbled and stayed back.

 

Alfred clutched onto Matthew's arm and all but dragged him forward as well when Arthur said, “Alfred can we talk?”

 

“Alright,” said Alfred, gripping tighter to Matt until the Canadian was sure his arm would snap in two.

 

“Let us go to the room Francis and I are staying in. We'll order room service and talk this out like adults.”

 

As Alfred dragged him along, Matt could hear the other man's teeth grit. Alfred was holding on by a thread. Matthew squeezed Alfred's arm just enough to be reassuring. Alfred raised one corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

 

“Er, no offence Matthew, lad, but this doesn't really concern you. I'd like to talk to Alfred alone if you will,” said Arthur, saying his words with the same kind firmness as he so often did.

 

Alfred shook his head rapidly before Matthew could say anything, “It does actually and I want him with me.”

 

Matthew felt Arthur's forest green eyes upon him and tried not to look away. He really hated confrontation and was really only good at dominating sexual or romantic partners when it was wanted. In this kind of situation? He sucked. Plain and simple.

 

Thankfully, Arthur didn't question it and nodded.

 

They were quiet, even while they were in Arthur and Francis's room. Only Arthur spoke and that was only to order food for them all. Alfred stayed glued to Matthew's side. Francis sat near to Arthur, however, the Brit was trying to keep his distance since he would shuffle away whenever the other came too close.

 

Once they were all done their food, Alfred blurted, “How long? I can't handle this anymore. Just tell me.”

 

Arthur didn't answer at first and neither did Francis. The first man not speaking immediately didn't surprise Matthew, the Englishman usually took his time to speak rather than just blurt out the first thing on his mind. Francis, however, was usually more a creature of whim than that. As a matter of fact, Matthew could see Francis biting his lower lip to keep the words in his mouth from being blurted out.

 

Arthur got up to stand in front of Francis, took a deep breath and said, “A little under eleven years now.”

 

Matthew placed a firm hand on Alfred's knee, a motion that did not go unnoticed by the Briton, who just arched a brow.

 

“Eleven years? Did I just hear you say that?” said Alfred, choking the words out and clenching his fists tight.

 

“Yes,” said Arthur, who shuffled his feet and crinkled his brows in confusion at the lack of violent response on the part of the American.

 

Matthew rubbed Alfred's knees soothingly.

 

“So then, did you ever even love me?” said Alfred, making a strangled sound deep in his throat.

 

Matthew could tell that the other man was close to tears that he didn't want to allow to spill.

 

Despite Francis' scathing glares, Arthur sat down and grabbed Alfred's hand, “Yes. I did and still do. That is why this had been hard on me.”

 

“Hard on you?”

 

As Alfred spoke those words he shoved Arthur's hand away and scooted closer to Matt, even though they were already so close that it was hardly possible.

 

“Well, yes,” said Arthur, more and more unsure sounding as the conversation progress.

 

Francis's knees were bouncing erratically as if he was entirely restless.

 

“I find that the man I love was unfaithful for over a decade and you say this has been hard on you? And here I was feeling bad for having an affair with Mattie during the vacation you bailed out on and waaaait -” said Alfred, leaping to his feet and beginning to pace around the room, “Were you with this french-jerk then, during our anniversary?”

 

Arthur sputtered and Francis chose this time to stand up, brace his feet in a proper position to receive an attack and said, “Why yes, yes he was. And I made sure that he didn't once regret his decision to spend the time with me.”

 

“So did you stay with me out of pity then Artie?”

 

Arthur was staring right at Matthew, eyes piercing before he replied, “No. I did not stay with you out of pity. I do love you.”

 

“But you love Francis more, or you would have broken it off with him,” said Alfred, deflating from his earlier pacing and letting Matthew wrap an arm around his shoulders.

 

Arthur didn't answer whether or not that was true. He didn't have to. The truth was obvious.

 

Alfred looked up at Matthew and then over at Francis, “I need some time alone with Arthur.”

 

Francis seemed about to protest, but Matthew grabbed the older nation's arm and dragged him to the door of the hotel room. Alfred shot Matthew a grateful smile.

 

Once out of the room, Matthew noticed a number of other nations milling about the hallway, trying not to appear like the nosy busybodies that they actually were. In this day and age of social media and easy communication, nations could be more gossipy than a group of housewives.

 

Francis was used to it, since the European personifications were notoriously bad for such behaviour and ignored them, gracefully walking to the bar of the hotel.

 

Matthew, having not much else to do, followed. Really, he could use a beer or four anyway.

 

Once they were sat at a discrete corner of the room, dim light barely touching them, Francis spoke, “You love him, non?”

 

Matthew tried not to choke on his beer, swallowing all down his some difficulty and then began to peel at the bottle's label, “I have no idea what you mean.”

 

Francis swirled his wine around and said, “Do not try to lie to me about this. I know the look of love.”

 

Mumbling a non-committal response, Matthew munched on a bowl of nuts that had been placed at his table.

 

“Matthew?”

 

Knowing how relentless his former guardian could be, Matthew said, “So what if I do. He just likes me for sex. The man he loves is Arthur.”

 

“Oui, but I think that there is more to his feelings than just that,” mused Francis, sipping the last of his own drink.

 

Slumping in his own seat, Matthew said, “I don't want to talk about this anymore.”

 

“If you wish.”

 

#

 

Alfred would normally feel the urge to fall into Arthur's arms when he was upset, even during times when the reason that he was upset was the Brit himself. But then, he didn't. He felt betrayed and angry and sad all at once. He didn't know what to do.

 

Arthur sat beside Alfred and eventually worked himself to hugging the man.

 

At that, Alfred chuckled. He full out laughed until he fell on the bed with his hands over his stomach. Arthur leaned over him asking what the matter was.

 

But it was so funny.

 

Alfred had been wanting and wishing for the Brit to be more affectionate for so long, to do so without being asked.

 

When the man finally does so, it is in order to comfort Alfred after admitting that he loved somebody else more.

 

“This just sucks Artie,” said Alfred, laying on his side, curling around Arthur's sitting form. He rested his head on Arthur's knees and clung pitifully.

 

Arthur, unsure and tentatively, stroked Alfred's locks of blond hair.

 

“Yes. I know. But I do love you.”

 

“I love you too, so why can't we be together?”

 

“Because it's different. We need something that we can't get from the other.”

 

Alfred peered up, fully aware that his lower lip was jutting out in a pathetic pout, “But I top you. Isn't that enough?”

 

Arthur's cheeks full reddened by that point and he fumbled with random words, unable to form a full coherent sentence. After a while, Arthur said, “Think about it logically. When you see me, when you spend time with me, does your heart-”

 

Arthur shook his head, “God this is too damn embarrassing-”

 

Alfred kissed Arthur's knee “Go on. It's fine.”

 

“Fine then. Does your heart ever beat so hard around me that it feels as if it is going to escape your chest? Does it feel hard to breath around me sometimes? Do you ever feel like throwing your whole life away just to spend time with me?”

 

Alfred wanted to lie. But he told the truth, “Well not really. But we've been together for quite some time that sort of stuff fades eventually.”

 

“But it was never like that. Don't you see?”

 

Alfred honestly didn't, “No.”

 

“Yes we love each other, but not like that. We're best friends.”

 

Alfred stared up at the ceiling, head still on Arthur's lap, “Well yeah, but friends don't have sex do they.”

 

“Some do I'm sure,” said Arthur with a shrug.

 

They were quiet for a while which felt odd for Alfred. He was used to blabbering on and on.

 

“So he treats you right?” asked Alfred finally.

 

“Yes.”

 

More silence. They drank some leftover wine and then Arthur asked, “What about Matthew?”

 

“What about him?” said Alfred.

 

“What do you feel for him?”

 

Alfred shrugged. He didn't know how to answer that. He hadn't given it any thought since he thought he loved Arthur. Did love Arthur. He still wasn't convinced about the loving as friends only deal.

 

Now he didn't know anything.

 

A few hours later Arthur looked at his phone when it beeped.

 

“Francis wants to come back to the room. Are we done here for now?”

 

Alfred's lower lip wobbled, “So you and I are done? Just like that?”

 

Arthur grimaced, “We'll still be friends.”

 

“I know but- Can I have one last kiss?”

 

With a nod, Arthur knelt in front of Alfred, both of them on the bed. Neither took the initiative, just stared at each other. It was with a tentative movement that Alfred leaned forward and brushed his lips against Arthur's.

 

They held hands and kissed with closed mouths, chaste and very unromantic but comforting. Both men pulled back reluctantly, Alfred sucked both of his lips into his mouth and hung his head.

 

“I'm sorry that it had to be this way. I wish that I could have pleased you,” said Alfred.

 

Arthur shook his head, “I think this was how it was supposed to be.”

 

Francis came in then and glared at Alfred. The American just glared right back, hoping to set the other on fire with his eyes or make him drop dead.

 

“Mathieu is waiting for you in your room, Alfred,” said Francis.

 

Alfred stepped out and slammed the door behind him. He felt the cool air of the hallway against his flushed cheeks and walked back to his hotel room in a daze.

 

“What happens now?” murmured Alfred under his breath.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep trying to make France be not such an ass-hat. I really am. It isn't working is it?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, I barely made it on time with this. Holy crap on a cracker, I didn't expect this to have as much sexy times as it did. I think the next chapter will be the last. Pretty sure at least. Enjoy.

Chapter 6

 

The rest of the meetings that week had passed by in a blur. Alfred hadn't paid much attention to them and was more than glad when it found out that Matthew had photocopied all of his own notes for him. Such a thoughtful guy.

 

Every night of the stay in the hotel was spent with Alfred curled up beside Matthew in the one bed. There was no sex though. Just cuddling, lots of junk food binges as well as movie marathons.

 

For once in his life, since he hit whatever nations could call puberty, Alfred had not been in the mood.

 

At the end of the week, he left for the airport without really thinking. He was so used to travel that he did everything automatically. He moved on auto-pilot.

 

So he was taken aback when he realized that Matthew had accompanied him. It was as if he came out of a fog and could suddenly see the world again.

 

“Matt, I'm going to Florida not Ottawa,” said Alfred, turning to look at the Canadian beside him.

 

Matt gave a tiny smile, “I know. Cost an arm and a leg to get my flight changed and to book the seat beside you in first class as well.”

 

“So why did you do it?” asked Alfred, really wondering how he had overlooked his neighbour following him, “Wait! Were you in the taxi with me as well?”

 

Matt nodded, “For once, going unnoticed was beneficial.”

 

“Geez. Why are you with me? I don't need a babysitter if that's what you're thinking,” grumbled Alfred, crossing his arms over his chest and slumping his shoulders.

 

“Nope. Just feel like going with you. Do you really want to be alone?” said Matt, accepting the glass of water that the flight attendant brought over to him.

 

"Not really. So what are you planning to do while you are visiting me?" Asked Alfred, staring down at the bottle of orange juice in his hands.

 

The attendant also handed them each a bag of mixed nuts. Matthew grabbed Alfred's bag and opened it for him. Good thing too because Alfred's massive strength often got the best of him and would send the contents of snack bags flying. Usually, he used scissors or a knife. Both of which weren't allowed on airplanes.

 

Matt shivered under Alfred's touch when their fingers brushed and turned his head to face him, looking deep into the other's eyes. He brushed a hand down Alfred's cheek and kissed his forehead.

 

"Hang out by the beach and maybe bring some food down there for a picnic," said Matthew as he ran a hand up and down Alfred's inner thigh.

 

Alfred flushed and looked around to see where the flight attendant was, all while trying to ignore Matthew's actions and focus on eating his nuts – heh, nuts, Alfred could always crack himself up eve in the most distracting of times.

 

The attendant was all the way up near the front of the section and no other passengers where very close. Since Matt's touch was addictive, he spread his legs to allow Matthew better access and found that the Canadian's hand drifted far enough up go rush against the fabric covering his balls.

 

"Matt-" whispered Alfred, who gripped the arm rests tightly.

 

Matthew didn't seem to acknowledge what he was even doing and instead went on about what they'd do when they were in Florida, "We can also go to one of the movies you've been wanting to see. That new one about the San Andrea's fault maybe?"

 

Matthew brushed the back of his fingers against the growing bulge in Alfred's slacks and said, "Hmm, though maybe that would be more of a horror for you than an action-packed disaster flick."

 

All Alfred could rasp out was a strangled, "Duuuude."

 

Matt continued to talk while stroking up and down over the fabric of Alfred's pants, the friction really making the American squirm and wriggle relentlessly in his seat.

 

Just as he felt as if he would cum, the attendant came near and Matt slyly removed his hand back onto his own lap as if nothing had just happened. Each time they weren't being watched by somebody, Matt's hand drifted back as if it had never left.

 

Alfred would have been annoyed at not getting to cum and being teased on and off for an entire flight when he realized something once the pilot announced their arrival :

 

Alfred hadn't thought about Arthur for the whole flight.

 

He felt both his heart lurch and rejoice at that knowledge. Part of him felt bad that he could so easily be distracted from remembering his lover. No, former lover. Another, bigger, part of him was just happy to get some of the bad thoughts out of his head.

 

So it would be a good thing, Alfred mused, having Matthew there with him for a while. Hanging out with a good friend would do him some good and as long as he didn't let his heart get too involved than he'd be alright. No touches more intimate than sex.

 

Yep. That was a good plan.

 

Except that right before they stood to get up out of their seats, Matt leaned over and pecked Alfred on the cheek.

 

"As soon as we get to your house I will fuck you senseless."

 

And then Matt grabbed his overhead baggage and left a stammering Alfred to stand there. Then they went out into the London airport and boarded the next flight that would take them to Florida.

 

#

 

Matthew wondered if hitting on a guy, or outright seducing, right after he just broke up made him scum. Then again, the rules were surely different if you were having sex with the guy before he broke up with his partner, right?

 

That's what Matthew wanted to tell himself at least as set his bags just inside of Alfred's surprisingly modest beachfront home. He wasn't sure whether the man would want him to share a room or use the guest bedroom. So he just left his bags where he set them down.

 

"So are you hungry?" asked Alfred, walking up behind Matthew and placing a hand on the Canadian's wide shoulder.

 

“Mmmm,” was all the response that Matthew felt like giving as he grabbed both sides of Alfred's face and kissed his forehead.

 

Matthew felt Alfred's arms drop to his sides. Drawing back, Matthew felt his lips curl shyly and grabbed Alfred's hand.

 

He'd been in all of Alfred's houses over the years, so he knew exactly where the bedroom was. Alfred didn't stop Matthew at all, following obediently.

 

As soon as they were in the bedroom Matthew pointed to the bed and said, "Lay face down with your arms over your head."

 

After all of the sexual tension from before the breakup and all of the weirdness afterwards, Matthew wanted nothing more than to release himself in a night of sex. He felt as if Alfred wanted to as well. To mere sure, he went over to the still clothed man and whispered into his ear, "Do you want this?"

 

Alfred visibly shivered and said.'' God yes, make me forget."

 

Mmmm, that was all Matthew needed to hear.

 

He straddled Alfred's legs near his knees and slid the index finger of both hands into the waistband of Alfred's jeans. Matt inched his fingers down to the sides of Al's hips and then below to undo the pants button. As he touched the slightly soft skin of Alfred's hip, he heard the man giggle and squirm

 

"Mattie that tickles," said Alfred, his ass raised into the air from the movement.

 

"Does it now?" asked Matthew without missing a beat, he whispered his fingers along the hipbones, keeping the other man pinned firmly while the giggles turned into full out laughter.

 

"Yes. Haha, Geez stop it," groaned Alfred, turning his head to the side to stare at Matthew.

 

"Fine then I'll just do this," said Matt, bringing a hand down to grip Alfred's hard dick which was already leaking pre-cum.

 

''O-Oh, that's better," said Alfred quietly, so much so that Matt could hardly hear him.

 

"You're only ever this quiet for me. Do you know how much I love that I get to see this side of you?"

 

Alfred just whimpered as Matt's hand stroked back and forth. Matt smiled wide and kissed the bottom of Alfred's spine before stopping his hand from it's movements.

 

Alfred groaned a protest that Matt ignored. Instead, Matt slipped the jeans from Al's hips and off his feet. With Alfred's legs spread just so, Matt could see a delicious glimpse of Alfred's perfectly hairless balls. Matt leaned down and licked a wet stripe from Alfred's perineum down to suck each orb into his mouth.

 

Alfred reached behind him and stroked Matt's hair. Matthew immediately sat up out of reach.

 

"What did I tell you?" asked Matthew firmly but not unkind.

 

Alfred faced the pillow and then, muffled by the puffy object, said, "Keep my hands above my head.

 

"And what did you just do?"

 

Even though Alfred was hiding his face, Matt could see the blush covering the American's ears, even down his neck, "I touched your hair."

 

"Without permission. I'd have considered letting you if you'd asked."

 

Alfred nodded.

 

''I've been too lenient with you I think."

 

Alfred answered by wiggling his ass.

 

Which was promptly smacked. The mark of a hand print flushed the skin of Alfred's ass. Matt smacked it again, feeling the very pleasant jiggle under his hand. Alfred's ass was mostly muscle, but there was enough fat to create quite the perfect bubble butt. So he hit one more time.

 

Moving so that his whole body was over Alfred, his cock resting between those now reddened cheeks, Matthew whispered into Alfred's ear, “Tell me something Alfred?”

 

“Hmmm?” breathed Alfred.

 

“Do you have any rope?”

 

#

 

And that led Alfred to being tied up expertly.

 

He was facing up, lower back propped by several pillows. His hands were bound by silk rope together and attached to the headboard of the bed. His legs were spread apart by a broom handle that he was tied to by his ankles and up around his thighs. His clothing was off and he was utterly bared to Matthew, who stood at the end of the bed and stared down at him.

 

“You are incredibly sexy,” said Matthew, finally taking off his own slacks which had become obviously tight.

 

“When did you learn how to do this?” asked Alfred, still chatty despite being prone.

 

He didn't understand the twinge of jealousy that rose up at the idea of Matthew with another nation. Aside of course from the one he already knew that Matthew had been with, which irritated him enough for some unknown reason.

 

“I've had practice,” said Matthew, lazily stroking his own erection as he sat on the edge of the bed beside Alfred.

 

Alfred grumbled, “With who?”

 

A finger trailed up his chest and tapped Alfred's chin so that his face met Matthew's own, “Are you really in the position to ask questions right now?”

 

Alfred couldn't shrug with his hands above his head as they were so he just made a few unintelligible sounds, “Just wanna know since we are friends and having sex and all.”

 

Matthew gave Alfred a look that the American didn't understand. It appeared to be a mix of amusement and sadness. Nope. He didn't get it at all.

 

Matthew said, “The only nation I was ever with in that way was Gilbert. I have been with human men before. We are so long-lived that it's hard to resist the lure of sex for centuries.”

 

Alfred grumbled and tried to shift his arms. The ropes were so expertly tied that it didn't hurt because they didn't dig into his flesh. It was only uncomfortable to have his arms in such a restrained position for such lengths of time. He didn't want to think about how uncomfortable he felt at the idea that Matthew had been with other people before, even if it made sense and was perfectly logical.

 

Matthew asked, not relenting from that line of conversation, “You have been with humans too, have you not? Have any of them topped you?”

 

What was it about Matthew talking to him that made his voice stop working? With any other nation, Alfred would have just blurted out the answer right away. Okay, maybe not any nation. But like, Feliciano or Kiku or Toris. With other nations, he would have simply bragged about having sex with humans and not whether or not he bottomed for them. Alfred was good at directing conversations away from things he didn't want to talk about.

 

But with Matthew, his mouth went dry. He wanted to rebel, just enough to be punished. However, he couldn't lie to him. There was just something about Matthew that begged respect. Demanded it.

 

At least to him.

 

“If you won't answer me, perhaps I need to persuade you?”

 

Matthew, faster than even a nation's eyes could register, brought his hand to Alfred's ass and smacked it, harder than he had before. The pain was wonderful and shot right up to Alfred's dick.

 

Another, one, two, ten. So hard. Matthew had so much strength. As close to Alfred's own as he had ever seen, even if it didn't surpass it. Alfred's ass was, therefore, on fire, burning red. Tears streamed down his cheeks and yet the barest traces of a grin twitched on the corners of his lips.

 

“I have. One or two,” said Alfred between pants for air.

 

Matthew smiled, “But it's not nearly as good is it?”

 

Alfred shook his head. It really wasn't as good.

 

He felt the weight of the extra body leave the bed and watched Matthew's movements through the room. Matt grabbed a bottle from his luggage and began to coat his fingers.

 

Since Alfred was already in position, exposed, Matthew just had to slip a lubed finger into him. Alfred's body was already relaxed and needy, so it didn't try to reject the probing digits. It, instead, eagerly opened to them. It hardly took any time at all before Matt had four fingers in.

 

Matt coated his own dick and then sunk into to the hilt, eyes closed in pleasure, “So hot.”

 

And then he moved, starting a pounding rhythm. Matt's dick was so hot and hard as a rock. Even with all of the stretching, Alfred felt a burn of pain from the intense stretching. Yet he loved it. Not a single thought beyond gaining his pleasure crossed his mind. He didn't remember to be sad in the slightest.

 

As soon as Matthew reached between them and stroked Alfred's cock, he was sent over the edge. The previous spankings and then the bondage had him sitting close to the edge of the precipice of pleasure in the first place.

 

Sticky ropes of white seed coated the hand that still stroked him as well as his own chest. Soon after, Matthew followed, Alfred felt the pulsing of the cock inside of him and the heat of the cum being released.

 

Matt pulled out and moved around the room. Alfred heard all of this but kept his eyes shut, floating on a cloud of subtle pains and bliss. He felt oh so very owned and it was nice. No other thoughts filled his rubbery and floppy body.

 

The ropes were skillfully removed, no doubts leaving faint red marks. He found himself being carried to the bathroom and set into a warm tub of water and scented bubbles.

 

Blowing one of the sweet smelling puffs off of his nose, Alfred slowly slid open his eyes and looked up at Matthew. There was a look in his eyes that Alfred hadn't ever seen before. They were so gentle and filled with some sort of pleasant emotion.

 

“Thank you,” whispered Alfred, leaning into the cloth that wiped down his cheeks.

 

“Not like you were the only one to get pleasure from this,” said Matthew, leaning down and kissing Alfred's forehead.

 

“Yes, but I feel happy right now for the first time in a while.”

 

“Well good, I'm very glad then.”

 

#

 

Early that morning, before the sun was fully up, Matthew heard a rustling. They'd fallen asleep in Alfred's room that night soon after their activities so Matthew was still there.

 

Cracking his eyelids slightly, he looked around as saw Alfred getting down a box from his closet. Once Matthew put on his glasses, unnoticed by the other nation, he sat up. In the still moonlight of the very early morning hours, he saw photos in Alfred's hands, of Arthur and himself. A stub from a movie ticket. A receipt from who knows what.

 

Tears rolled down Alfred's cheeks. With a sigh, Matthew plodded over and sat beside his sad neighbour. Then, Matthew held Alfred as the man cried in his arms.

 

#

 

“It's so hot here. How is it still only spring ?” complained Matthew, mopping at his forehead with a bandana that he'd filched from somewhere in Alfred's room.

 

“It's really not that bad. It's nice out!” said Alfred, bouncing on the balls of his feet in the sand.

 

Matthew had made it to the sand at the front of Alfred's beach house before collapsing under an umbrella that was placed there. It was just too hot. Kuma wasn't even outside and was happily floating in a tub of water filled with hundreds of ice cubes.

 

Lucky bear.

 

The white sand was warm under Matthew's fingers as he made grooves in the pristine beach surface. Alfred was running around, going in and out of the water, only wetting his legs. He watched as the American tossed stones into the ocean and then began to gather shells. Matthew, who had been awakened by Alfred early that morning, decided to take a nap.

 

When he groggily woke up sometime later, he found that he couldn't easily move his arms. Or his legs.

 

In fact, he was entirely encased, up to his neck, in the sand. Thankfully the umbrella was still over his head so that he wouldn't get sunburnt. Somehow, Alfred had dragged half of the beach worth of sand over Matthew's sleeping body and had wet it with water so that it packed and stayed in place more easily. Along all of the sand were shells of various sorts.

 

And beside him was a giggling Alfred.

 

Slowly but surely, Matthew pried himself out of the sand.

 

“I took a photo of this. Already has fifty likes on Facebook,” announced Alfred, holding up his phone.

 

“At least you didn't give me sand boobs,” muttered Matthew, trying to brush all of the sand off of him. There was just so much. He was pretty sure that the crack of his ass had enough sand to make a sandcastle out of.

 

“What? Oh-Em-Gee that's like the best idea ever,” said Alfred, slipping his phone back into the bag that they'd brought down with them.

 

Still perturbed and removing sand particles from himself, Matthew mumbled, “You sound like Poland.”

 

“You're so mean,” said Alfred, pouting.

 

The Florida sun beat down on Alfred and Matthew was certain that he could see the man's skin glow as if it were flecked with gold. His body was as if it were sculpted by a master artist. Matthew licked his lips.

 

“My swim trunks are full of sand thanks to you.”

 

“You could take them off,” suggested Alfred with a shrug, staring up at the few puffy and white clouds that were floating in the otherwise perfectly clear blue sky.

 

“What?” said Matthew, startling and looking around them, “What if somebody comes around?”

 

“That hardly ever happens. See? I'll do it first.”

 

Which Alfred did in nearly no time at all, baring every sexy inch of himself, “Race you to the water!”

 

Matthew rolled his eyes and took his trunks off slowly. He watched with amusement as Alfred jumped up and down, crying out in triumph at his 'win'. Personally Matthew didn't think it counted as a win if the other person as barely playing, but hey, whatever made the man happy. That was the goal of him being there after all.

 

The water was nice on his too warm skin and he smiled. Wonderful.

 

He was careful to keep track of his friend, who prowled around him as if he were a shark in the water. Matthew knew that he'd be tackled soon, so he braced his legs for the impact as if it would stop the freight train like strength of Alfred.

 

As predicted, he was dunked into the water.

 

“Thanks,” said Matthew with not a little bit of sarcasm.

 

“You're welcome. Hey lookit these fish here! Isn't it cool?”

 

Matthew looked down into the water by Alfred and found that he was being surrounded by tropical fish even though the coral reefs weren't very close at all. It was as if the fish had sought Alfred out to greet him. Alfred reached a hand out to them and they surrounded it.

 

“Wow! There are so many colours.”

 

Matthew didn't move. These species of fish weren't found anywhere near his lands or waters and didn't know him. He'd just scare them off if he moved. However, if he stayed perfectly still, the fish, whose instincts were very basic at most, would probably mistake him as land. Animals had interesting senses when it came to nations and how they perceived them.

 

The colourful little aquatic creatures loved Alfred, whose waters they lived in. Alfred was chuckling about how they were tickling him. He looked just so darn happy to be there, playing with the animals.

 

Matthew couldn't help but whisper, “I just keep falling more and more in love with you.”

 

Alfred looked over with a smile on his face, “Huh? I didn't hear you dude.”

 

Matthew shook his head, “Nothing.”

 

#

 

Alfred was quite glad for modern technology that allowed Matthew to work from nearly anywhere in the world. The Canadian would have to go back to his home eventually, especially because he would begin to crave the feel of his own lands. However until then Alfred got to enjoy his friend's presence.

 

They'd spent so much time together during the week and a half that Alfred had been in Florida. Not once had Alfred become sick and tired of Matthew's presence. They'd played on the beach; fucked anywhere that struck their fancy; ate delicious all-American food and just generally had fun.

 

On late nights and very early mornings, when the memories of Arthur came to Alfred the strongest, Matthew was there to pull him away from his sorrow. Just being held without being asked was nice. Sweet snuggles and kisses to his forehead.

 

And if he caught Matthew staring at him too hard sometimes or giving him a weird look sometimes, Alfred didn't say anything. Alfred would wonder why though, and what those strange looks meant. But he didn't get enough time to think about it before Matthew did have to go back. Both of their bosses were putting on the pressure for the to return to their respective capital cities and resume proper work. Even though Alfred had begun a major pout-fest when that order had come through.

 

They sat in the car at the airport, holding hands and staring at their own feet. Alfred felt his hand being lifted and lips caressing the back softly.

 

“Make sure you keep in touch this time, eh?” said Matthew, leaning in to press another kiss to Alfred's cheek.

 

Alfred wondered if Matthew was going to kiss him and pondered as to when he'd begun to want that. What did that even mean anyway? He didn't know. But he wished that that he could feel the Canadian's lips on his own. He wanted to know what they felt like. If they tasted like maple syrup.

 

“I will,” said Alfred, waiting there for a little longer before he realized that Matthew wasn't going kiss him, “I promise.”

 

Matthew smiled wide and said, “Good.”

 

#

Four months passed by since that fateful world meeting where Alfred and Arthur broke up. Matthew had spoken to Francis and had heard through the rumour mill that he and Arthur would doing – well – as one would expect. Dysfunctional and yet somehow loving. None of the other European nations were surprised that those two ended up together and Matthew had wondered how he had missed it himself for so many years.

 

Of course Arthur and Francis had unresolved sexual tension. It made sense once he thought back on it.

 

Matthew simply supposed that he had always been a little too preoccupied.

 

Now though, he had someone very specific on his mind. A certain somebody who had arrived at his home four days previous.

 

It was the morning, but nearing noon and Matthew had already had his coffee so he was wide awake. At his feet was Alfred, kneeling with his head down and hands folded on his lap. He was naked save for a silver cock-cage restraining his genitals. Matthew was sitting on the couch and was watching tv, every now and then he'd card his fingers through Alfred's hair.

 

They'd kept up the sex since Arthur and Alfred broke up. While Matthew always topped, they didn't always play games of domination and submission. Matthew enjoyed them but didn't need them to feel fulfilled.

 

Alfred, however, seemed to want them based on his mood. Four days ago Alfred had come knocking on Matthew's door. There'd been bags under his eyes and his sunny smile was replaced by a weary frown. Matthew had been texting back and forth with him and knew that he'd been in a number of meetings with countries that he owed money to. There'd also been a political scandal and a rough batch of storms had swept through his south. Alfred had run himself ragged being the hero.

 

Alfred had closed the door and dropped to his knees in front of Matthew, gripping onto his pants. He looked up at Matthew with tired eyes, shining with trust. Matthew knew exactly what was wanted from him. Needed.

 

So there they were. Alfred had been sitting still for quite some time and Matthew said, “You've been a good boy. You've listened well and have hardly squirmed at all.”

 

He saw Alfred grin ear to ear but not lift his head.

 

Good.

 

With his big toe, Matthew traced the outer edges of the silver metal encasing Alfred's dick. So cute.

 

Alfred had done well that past few days. Matthew had fucked him senseless more times than he could count. Left Alfred needy and wanting.

 

Matthew supposed that he'd waited for long enough.

 

“Sit on the couch,” ordered Matthew, getting to his feet and leaving the room.

 

When he came back there was a key in his hand that was for the lock mechanism on the cock cage. He knelt in front of Alfred and slowly licked the flesh that was exposed between the metal bars. Right away, the trapped dick twitched and Alfred whimpered.

 

“Mattie you're being mean,” said Alfred, whining and grabbed the edge of the couch cushion that he was sitting on.

 

“Being mean would be letting you wait another day,” said Matthew, moving as if he intended to get up, which he didn't, but Alfred was too horny to realize it was a joke and grabbed his wrist.

 

“Please. I'm about ready to explode and I've been so good,” begged Alfred, so sweetly that Matthew pressed a tender kiss to the inside of Alfred's thigh.

 

“I was joking but yes, you have been a good boy.”

 

Removing the lock from the cage, Matthew slowly slid it off and away. The adorable pink cock was only soft for all of two seconds before it began to come to life. Matt flicked out his tongue and tasted the salty and bitter drop of pre-cum that tried to escape.

 

Normally he wasn't a fan of giving blow jobs since they were uncomfortable and semen tasted gross if he were to be honest. When it came to Alfred though, Matthew was willing to pleasure him and return the many favours that he'd given him. Over the past four months, Matt had given more blowjobs to Alfred than he'd given out in his hundreds of years of existence. This was the first time this visit though.

 

He licked up one side, with the tip of his tongue, tracing a barely visible vein all the way up to the rosy head. Matthew loved the feel of the pulse under his tongue and the weight of the balls that he rolled in his hand. He didn't bring the dick into his mouth yet, even though he heard several needy whines and whimpers from Alfred, who was also still being good by keeping his hands to himself.

 

After one flick to the slit, on which was another pearly bead of pre-cum, Matthew drew back and stroked up and down Alfred's legs. He brought his hands up and over the expanse of Alfred's stomach. It had just the faintest bit of pudge to it, which was, of course over incredible amounts of lean muscle. It was barely even noticeable. Alfred flushed.

 

"Don't touch my fat," pouted Alfred, whose dick didn't deflate in the slightest despite his words.

 

"It's cute. Have I not said that before," stated Matthew quietly, surprised at himself that he hadn't.

 

"No. You think I'm a fat ass. You said it yourself before," Alfred was biting his lower lip by then.

 

"If I did, it was when I was angry, and a long time ago I might add. I didn't mean it then even though I shouldn't have said it. I especially don't feel that way now. I mean it when I tell you that it's cute."

 

Matthew kissed up and down Alfred's tummy, every soft inch. Alfred giggled.

 

"Maaaatttttiiiee! Don't say things you don't mean," said Alfred, wiggling on the couch under Matthew's touch.

 

"I wouldn't lie. You are perfect the way you are."

 

When Matthew looked up and met the man's eyes, there was a look that he had been seeing a bit more and more these past few months. Matthew didn't' quite understand it. Perhaps Alfred was just remembering his time with Arthur or something? Matthew didn't dare get his hopes up that it was anything else. Didn't want to ask and bring up some kind of bad memory or something. Alfred had taken a long time to get over the loss of his previous partner and Matthew felt as if anything might set Alfred back into longing for the Brit.

 

Confused, Matthew decided to go back to his previous task. He drew the American's dick deep into his mouth and sucked it for all he was worth. He held down the hips that tried to buck desperately into his mouth.

 

“Oooooh Matt. Oh, Geez. So close already.”

 

Which wouldn't do at all, really.

 

Matthew grabbed the base of Alfred's cock and gripped hard enough to keep the orgasm at bay. He long and high-pitched whine burst from Alfred's lips.

 

Matthew grinned up at Alfred in what he hoped was an evil way. Alfred shivered so he was pretty sure he got his point across.

 

“I'm going to make sure you enjoy this thoroughly,” said Matthew.

 

#

 

Alfred had attained oneness with the couch. It hadn't been hard since he was utterly boneless. His eyes were slid closed and his breathing, as well as the beating of his heart, had slowed down to normal. Matthew had kept him on the edge for several potential orgasms and then milked three out of him.

 

So good. Alfred could hardly think straight.

 

His head was resting in Matthew's lap and he cracked his eyes open to look up at his lover.

 

“Coming back to life?” asked Matthew with no small amount of amusement.

 

“Almost. You're like a God of sex, I swear. You could give lessons on the subject. I bet that you're better than France or Spain or Greece or something. One of those guys that have sex a lot, except that you don't have sex with tonnes of other nations.”

 

“I'm pretty sure that all three of them are devoted to their partners.”

 

“Heracles isn't dating Kiku. I'd know. Kiku's one of my besties and I'm sure he'd tell me.”

 

“Probably. But I think you know what I meant.”

 

“Yeah. I guess. At least I would hope that Francis was loyal to Arthur. If he cheated, I'd have to kill him,” said Alfred, feeling a growl build in his throat at the thought.

 

“I don't think that he will. I think that deep down, he's always had eyes just for Arthur.”

 

Alfred grumbled, “Probably. I'm still ticked at him for doing what he did.”

 

Matthew pet Alfred's hair, brushing some of the strands of gold back from his forehead, “Let's change the subject.”

 

“Okay,” said Alfred, happy to snuggle into Matthew's lap. This was nice, just the way it was.

 

#

 

Alfred sat at his desk in his office in the White House. He smiled and greeted the small bird that landed at his open window. It was a nice day with an open blue sky, not a cloud to be seen. A gentle breeze wafted in and gave the normally stuffy feeling office some fresh air.

 

He was feeling so good that when it was about time for a break, he took his cell phone with him. He was going to call Mattie.

 

Last week, when he'd been up in Canada, had been great. Matt was so good at being dominating in the bedroom. Alfred couldn't help but think that if Matthew was that assertive in the rest of his life than he wouldn't go so unnoticed so often.

 

Then again, Alfred wasn't sure it would be such a great idea. He liked knowing that he was the only one who noticed Matt sometimes, as selfish as that thought was.

 

He sat on a bench outside beside a tree and let the phone ring.

 

It was weird that Matt didn't answer on the second ring. But maybe he was busy cooking or washing maple syrup off of his pet bear.

 

Finally Matthew picked up, “Hello?”

 

The voice sounded vaguely out of breath and Alfred felt his heart beat quickened. He got a sick sense of deja vu.

 

“H-hey. I just called to see how you were doing,” said Alfred, scratching along the wood of the bench with his fingernail.

 

“I'm fine, please don't,” said Matthew, his voice trailing off at the end as if he were talking to somebody else.

 

“Are you busy or something?” asked Alfred, feeling some sort of strange emotion at the idea that Matthew would be too busy for him.

 

“A bit but that's- h-hey what are you doing,” said Matthew, laughing under his breath at something.

 

That's when Alfred heard it; the obnoxious and slightly gritty voice of the former nation of Prussia. Matthew's ex-boyfriend.

 

In the background, Alfred heard, “Hey Birdie! I'm your guest. You shouldn't talk on the phone while I'm here.”

 

Matthew spoke again, “I'm sorry Alfred. If everything is going well for you right now then I have to let you go. I'll call you later though, promise.”

 

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm good. I'm great. Yep, that's me. The hero who is always awesome,” said Alfred, letting loose some of his loud laughs.

 

Matthew said, “Are you sure?”

 

“Absolutely dude. I'm fine.”

 

“O-okay. Well, see you.”

 

For the rest of the day, Alfred was obsessing.

 

Was Mattie cheating on him? Well no because they weren't dating. Alfred had kept thinking of them as friends right? Called them that out loud a number of times. Then why did he always feel so weird around Mattie.

 

His heart would always beat so hard around Matthew that it would feel as if it were beating out of his chest. It felt hard to breath around him sometimes. He just wanted to throw away his duties to go spend time with the Canadian-

 

Oh.

 

OH!

 

So that was what Arthur had been talking about. When he described love back in that hotel room.

 

Alfred had fallen in love with Matthew.

 

This time, Alfred wasn't going to back down. He was going to win back his man from Gilbert. He'd win. Though he sort of hoped that Matthew wouldn't have done that to him or would have at least consulted him before having sex with somebody else.

 

Wait? Did Matthew not feel the same as he did? Was that why he hadn't tried to kiss him lately?

 

Alfred vowed to find out.

 

And with that, he decided to take at least a week off of work.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY that I took so long to get this out. I was physically unable to write for a while. It wasn't anything serious, just frecking annoying that I couldn't write. But here we go, finally written. Since on Tuesday when I was finally able to write, NOTHING was done for chapter 7, I did this as fast as I could. Therefore, I didn't censor myself as much as I normally do. I hope this isn't too bad and isn't all over the place.
> 
> This is the last chapter along with the epilogue I will be posting right after. I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you for waiting and your support. I love you all :3

Chapter 7

 

“No, absolutely not,” said the President of the United States of America, not even looking up from the document that he was reading at his desk.

 

Alfred crossed his arms and pouted, “Why not?”

 

“Because despite what you may think, the Canadian Government is likely to think of your plan as an attack or possibly a declaration of outright war.”

 

“Naw, Mattie's boss, what's-his-name is pretty chill. He won't care. I'm after somebody else anyway; an invader of Canadian soil!”

 

The president flipped the page of the papers he was reading, “Be that as it may, the answer is still no. Now go back to your office and get your work done.”

 

“Just two fighter jets and fifty soldiers. Just enough to scare that former nation jerk and escort him from Canada forever,” he said, even though he was still creeping towards the exit.

 

The president cleared his throat and pointed to the door. Alfred didn't want to push his luck and made a quick get-away. His boss tended to give Alfred more work if he thought that he had too much free time on his hands.

 

Besides. He could just do what he wanted. He was The great U.S of A after all. Who was a mortal man to tell him what to do?

 

#

 

“What'd you mean no? Come ooooooonnnnnn,” asked Alfred, scowling.

 

He couldn't believe this. Of all the times for all of the branches of his military to be warned of his plans. And so quickly too. Geez.

 

“We were told not to allow you to have what you are asking for,” said the Officer in charge of that air force base.

 

“Fine,” said Alfred, in full-on pout mode, wandering away from the officer who was startled that his refusal was accepted so easily, having had experience with the nation before.

 

With his shoulders slumped and his hands in his pockets. Alfred walked towards the exit to the base. He needed to get to Canada fast and couldn't just go by car or regular consumer flight. It wouldn't be good enough.

 

After what had happened with Arthur, Alfred didn't know what to think anymore and felt frantic. He used to think that he knew people, but couldn't trust his instincts that said to trust Matthew. And he most certainly did not trust the pale-faced creepy former nation. Alfred remembered back when Gilbert had trained him before he fought his revolution. The Prussian had given him nightmares, purposely scaring him and his people. Gilbert had also leered incessantly at Alfred's female citizens.

 

Okay, so Alfred was pretty sure the guy hadn't actually slept with the women of his country, but that was beside the point.

 

He had no idea what was going on in Matthew's house. But he'd stop it for sure.

 

That was when he saw it. There was a jet, sitting on the open runway. The security on the bases was usually top notch, a point of which Alfred was quite proud. However right then, seeing the unguarded plane felt like a dream come true.

 

Crouching behind some bushes, Alfred waited and slinked closer to the empty plane. A group of soldiers passed nearby but didn't seem to notice their nation. Alfred figured that it was probably because he was trying to make himself one with the ground.

 

"Be the dirt," muttered Alfred quietly to himself, "You are the land, you are a rock"

 

As soon as the soldiers had passed, Alfred leaped to his feet and full out ran to the jet. Upon closing the plane's door, many base workers came out yelling, including the Officer that he'd spoken to earlier. Evidently, the officer hadn't been as well informed as he should have been. Otherwise, they would have had better security in this base. Alfred would have to talk to them about increasing security later. But for right then it worked to his advantage so he'd let it slide.

 

Since he'd been flying planes ever since they were first created, Alfred knew exactly what to do to get the baby started. It was quite the beautiful piece of equipment and he felt privileged to be able to fly it even if he was only borrowing it.

 

It wasn't theft, since it was a part of his army and really, his boss didn't have the rights to tell him not to use the things in his own country.

 

The officer had obviously begun to inform the rest of the base's soldiers that Alfred was a VIP, and so the rest of the people put their weapons away and didn't bother to shoot at Alfred.

 

“Good,” muttered Alfred to himself.

 

He was going to get in enough trouble for this and disobeying a direct order from his boss anyway, the last thing he needed was a few bullet wounds in his body. Those super sucked. Big time.

 

“Now to go to Canada.”

 

#

 

The shrill ringtone that Matthew had set for his boss went off. He sleepily reached around to try and grab for his cell phone. He refused to open his eyes since it was not the time for him to wake up and only managed to knock the phone off of the bedside stand.

 

It stopped ringing and Matthew fell right back asleep.

 

It rang only moments later and this time didn't stop. Matthew didn't know what was up. His boss knew that he was hard to wake up if it was too early and so would only call during emergencies. They didn't get along well enough to make phone calls a regular thing.

 

The thing was, any emergency that the Prime Minister would call about this early would have already woken Matthew up. If there were a natural disaster, he would feel it; Be it an ice storm that would wake Matthew up in a fit of intense shivering, or a large-scale fire that would have his skin feeling ablaze. If it were an economic crisis, Matthew would wake up with a terrible sickness and probably run right to the bathroom to throw up. An invasion would have him wake up suddenly and bolt upright, like the feeling one gets when waking up from a nightmare. He would feel deeply unsettled.

 

So he had no idea what was going on unless it was happening in another country. In his sleep addled mind, he had no real idea why it couldn't wait until the sun had risen, at the very least. He may be a nice guy most of the time, but only when it didn't wake him up too early.

 

So he let it ring some more until a loud pounding came on his bedroom door, “Hey Matt! Answer your phone it's keeping me from my awesome sleep.”

 

Oh yeah, Gilbert was here at his house.

 

Matthew reached down and finally answered, “Hello.”

 

No sir or pleasantries at- Matthew looked over at his clock with a squint and restrained a sigh – three in the morning. Jesus Murphy!

 

“Mr. Williams,” started his boss in that patronizing tone of voice they all tended to use, since Matthew had the appearance of a nineteen-year-old, but especially his current boss, “Get ready, a military escort is nearly at your house. You are needed immediately. Be ready and answer your phone promptly next time I call.”

 

Then his boss hung up without a farewell. Matthew and his current boss hadn't always been on the best of terms. He may be a nation, and feel his people as an extension of himself, but he was also a person with his own thoughts and beliefs. Matthew, being, for the most part, gay, had always taken issue with his boss' political party's stance on LGBT folks. Oh sure his boss never went out and said anything to Matthew about his “lifestyle” but he'd hinted. Which always ticked Matthew off.

 

Of course, Matthew hadn't ever said a word in protest. He was just thankful that his boss hadn't ever reopened the debate on whether gay marriage should be legal or not. Perhaps all of Matthew's also subtle hints about how he knew how the majority of Canadian citizens felt about same-sex marriage had swayed his boss' decision. But it wasn't entirely enough for him nor his people. Sometimes he really hated how the voting in his country worked.

 

Here Matthew was, feeling his people and what they wanted. Most of them didn't want his current boss in power. And yet because of how the electoral system was set up, his current boss kept getting re-elected. It was hard on Matthew to follow the orders of a man his people didn't particularly approve of. Especially when said man woke him up way too flippin' early, without even the time to get a proper breakfast.

 

Gilbert was asleep again, sprawled out on the guest room's bed as if he were a human shaped starfish. Matthew snickered and went downstairs. The adorable and funny sight did raise his mood a little but not enough. Since his boss had been in power for quite some time, they'd taken to trying to avoid one another. Usually, the two of them would communicate via secretaries. It was just better for the mood of everybody involved.

 

Matthew decided to wait outside after leaving a note on the kitchen counter for Gilbert, where the man would inevitably wander over to in search of pancakes. This way the man wouldn't wake up when his transport arrived.

 

Soon enough, two black SUVs pulled into his driveway. The drivers stayed inside but a soldier came out of the first vehicle.

 

“General Williams, if you will come this way sir,” said the young man, obviously green and nervous to be around such a VIP.

 

Matthew, knowing his people in a deeper way than any other, could see it. Maybe the nervousness wouldn't have been obvious to anybody else. The soldier was a good kid though. Had a pregnant fiancee back home if Matthew's senses weren't too muddled by sleepiness.

 

Matt smiled and nodded, getting into the backseat.

 

He wondered about something though. If his boss was sending somebody with such inexperience, what was going on?

 

Looking up and catching the soldier's eye in the rearview mirror, Matthew said, “Where are we going Private?”

 

“Base Borden sir.”

 

#

 

They'd flown by helicopter most of the way so that the trip from Ottawa didn't take over seven hours.

 

Though Matthew wondered why they were going to Borden of all places. He truly couldn't think of any reason. He regularly went through military training and kept up with things so that he could feel worthy of the title of General. He worked damn hard for his rank. So if this was his boss springing some kind of surprise check up of his abilities he was going to be pissed.

 

The soldiers that he was with had no idea exactly what was going on. Everything that had happened was very hush hush and while the base knew that something was happening there, nobody knew what except for the very higher ups.

 

Matthew rolled his eyes. Of course, nobody would see fit to find a way to let Matthew know what was up ahead of time. Of course.

 

He'd asked to stop for coffee. It seemed that the Prime Minister himself had given orders to somebody to make sure that Matthew didn't get sidetracked. As if he did that a lot. Geez! Even nations got hungry.

 

The soldiers accompanying him brought along some snacks, for which Matthew was immensely thankful. Even if he was desperate for a coffee.

 

As soon as the helicopter landed on the helipad, the chief of defense approached. There was a stern look on his face and his hair looked as if he'd been running fingers through it over and over again.

 

Matthew hopped out of the now still aircraft and stuck out his hand, thankful at least that his boss wasn't here. The chief of defense, the highest ranking officer save for the Governor General, was Matthew's equal more or less. Matthew was just far more behind the scenes, like a backup.

 

“Hello Thomas,” said Matthew with a tired smile.

 

“Matthew. Let us walk and talk.”

 

After shooing away anybody within earshot who didn't have clearance to hear what they would say, the chief said, “Yesterday we had an American fighter jet fly into our airspace. When asked to identify themselves, the pilot would only say that 'he was coming to take Canada back for himself'.”

 

Matthew began to scrub his hand over his face. He didn't like where this was going.

 

“Perhaps if I had heard that, I would have known what was going on. However, those who were on the radios at the time do not know of your existence as a nation.”

 

Nope. He didn't like this at all.

 

“They asked him to land. He refused. Our pilots took to the air and forced him to land but not without the American giving up a fight. One of our own crashed. Thank heavens that the soldier inside was only injured and not killed.”

 

Matthew clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. He held back the swear words right on the tip of his tongue.

 

“The man put up a fight and tried to escape with the words that, 'Canada was his and he'd do whatever he could to get him back.' This, of course, sounded like the talk of terrorism to those who didn't know better, and the strength of the man involved, as well as the weapons held on the jet, was enough for our intelligence agency to be called. I came here because I was nearby.”

 

They reached a nondescript building and entered, heading to a staircase that lead to a basement. At the bottom was a heavily reinforced steel door with four armed men standing guard in front of it. The chief of defense was recognized and Matthew, being these people's nation, was trusted instinctively.

 

Nothing seemed too odd yet to Matthew, despite being 99.9% sure of what was going on. Inside the guarded area was another story altogether.

 

He heard shouts right away.

 

“My boss SO did not say that. So lemme go!” yelled a familiar voice.

 

Matthew wasn't close enough to yet hear the reply that was obviously spoken in a normal tone of voice.

 

“You're lying to me. You need to believe me. Canada, the personification, is going to be taken away and so I need to kill him,” said Alfred.

 

Matthew waited outside of the door and motioned for the chief of defense to do the same.

 

“You wish to kill our personification?” said one of the other men in the room, probably secret service by the way he spoke so casually about a personified nation.

 

“No, not him. HIM! Prussia.”

 

“Prussia is no longer a country,” replied the agent, “So what army would he invade with?”

 

“He wouldn't- what'd I tell you guys before? Don't you listen?”

 

The agent, who sounded exasperated as if he'd gone over this more than once, said, “You told me that you took off in a fighter jet equipped with a bomb in order to stop 'Prussia' from having sexual relations with Canada. Tell me how that makes sense and doesn't sound like a lie.”

 

Alfred harrumphed and said, “It makes perfect sense. Intimidate the enemy.”

 

“And you didn't identify yourself why?”

 

Alfred made a noise to respond, but Matthew didn't give him the chance. Storming into the room, Matthew slammed the cracked open door all the way, hearing it crash against the wall. He surveyed the room with icy, tired, and frustrated eyes. The walls were cement and there were no windows. There were shelves on the walls, mostly with some items such as handcuffs and other restraint devices. In the middle was a heavy metal chair that Alfred sat upon. Chains were broken on the floor beside him, from the looks of it they'd been holding his arms behind him and his ankles to the legs of the chair. Most metals couldn't hold Alfred if he really wanted to free himself and he'd likely ripped through them as if they were paper. Alfred was still sitting, probably because of the twenty people in the rather decent sized room.

 

Each man and woman held a powerful pistol aimed directly at the American. If Alfred were to continue to attack, he'd either:

 

A) Get unlucky and shot full of bullets. Twenty or more bullets would be more than enough to temporarily kill a nation. Dying really sucked, even if they did come back to life in a few days.

 

Or B) Get lucky and take out Matthew's soldiers before they took him out. It was possible for a strong nation such as Alfred. But he'd probably have to kill them all. And that, Matthew wouldn't forgive anytime soon. Especially for such a stupid reason.

 

Matthew saw that many of his soldiers in the room had bruises on them.

 

When Alfred's eyes met Matthew's own, the American said, “Mattie! Tell these jerks that my boss wouldn't have told them that they can do what they want with me for a while as 'punishment'.”

 

The words barely registered in Matthew's mind. He was gritting his teeth and tightened his fists. He growled under his breath and then turned to the chief of defense. He felt his eyes narrow further and he said, “Get everybody out of this room and leave this level of the building.”

 

“He isn't up to no good? Are you absolutely sure? I trust his government's stance on not attacking us or approving his foray into our lands, but perhaps he had gone rogue?” said Thomas, chief of defense, hands on his hips.

 

“He's fine. He's just incredibly stupid,” said Matthew, hearing the sputter of protest from Alfred who was approaching him.

 

Matthew whipped around and pointed over to the chair, eyes getting even more frosty. Alfred stopped and looked, for a second or two, as if he wasn't going to listen. But then he averted his eyes and slinked back to his seat.

 

The chief did as he was asked, trusting his equal, and closed the door behind him.

 

It wasn't until he had heard the door leading to the stairs shut and looked to see if the hallway was clear that he re-closed and locked the door behind him.

 

“Mattie, are you okay? What was Prussia doing? Was he trying to-” started Alfred but Matthew didn't let him finish, over to the chair in a flash.

 

“You injured one of my people,” he hissed into Alfred's ear, hand creeping to rest on the American's neck.

 

Alfred tried to look to the ground as best as he could, which wasn't very well since Matthew kept his hand in place. Matthew didn't squeeze or do anything to hurt, just to threaten. He was pissed. Everything that had happened since he woke up had combined to make him furious and in a terrible mood. Alfred picked the wrong time to pull a stupid stunt like that.

 

“I didn't mean to,” whined Alfred, pouting out his lower lip, “I'm really sorry.”

 

“And for what? Some stupid testosterone fuelled posturing?” said Canada, keeping his words barely above a lethal whisper.

 

“Gilbert was probably up to no good. I bet he wanted you back. Did he sleep with you?” asked Alfred, in a rare bout of aggression with the Canadian, showing teeth.

 

Matthew tightened his hand on the neck he was holding, “You think I'm helpless to the charms of anybody who flirts with me? You think I let him fuck me because he asked?”

 

“So he asked?”

 

“Does it matter?”

 

Matthew saw Alfred scowl and then bit out, “Hell yes it matters! Especially if you said that you would.”

 

“That's what you think of me huh?”

 

Alfred nodded, “Well yeah. I'm just a fuck to you anyway, you won't even kiss me.”

 

Matthew saw red and acted before he thought. He felt his free hand whip out and slap the American right across the face, a crimson hand print blooming on that golden tanned cheek.

 

“I won't kiss you? That's hilarious! If I recall, you wouldn't kiss me for months. For so long you used me to satisfy your sexual needs when you were dating and being loving with another man.”

 

Matthew hardly noticed the look of shock on Alfred's face and the dropped jaw.

 

“Did you even stop to think about what you had been doing and how I felt? Even after you and Arthur broke up, you used me for sex. You refused nearly all of my attempts at real affection and now you have the nerve to say that I treated you as just a fuck?”

 

Matthew didn't even notice the sheen of wetness that had sprung to Alfred's eyes and the wobbling lower lip.

 

“Get to your knees.”

 

“W-what?”

 

Using his free hand, he grabbed Alfred's cheeks and squeezed them together and forced the man to look at him, “I said get to your knees. You say I treated you like you were just a fuck? I'll show you what that really means.”

 

And then he watched, through a haze of anger, as the American sunk to his knees in compliance.

 

#

 

The point where he'd really fucked up had been when he'd taken that plane. He didn't realize it at the time because he was so worried that he was going to lose somebody else in his life. Somebody who'd begun to mean so much to him; who possibly had meant a lot to him for a long time.

 

The cold concrete dug into his jean clad knees and he stared helplessly into Matt's cold violet eyes. Oh sure, he could overpower Matt physically. But he'd never hurt him, or fight back.

 

Matt's fingers dug into his jaw and forced his mouth open while his other hand worked open the zipper of his pants. As soon as the briefs were slid down Matt's hips, he drove forth and shoved his cock down Alfred's throat.

 

Alfred hadn't been expecting that. His throat burned with the sudden intrusion without warning and tears that had been building in the corners of his eyes leaked out, chilling in the coldness of the room as they rolled down his cheeks. Matt began a furious pace, uncaring about how hard he thrusted. Alfred squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Yes, he liked pain such as spankings. But not this. It was too rough. Matt's cock was so big that it gagged him, causing streams of thick and mucousy saliva to run down his chin.

 

Was this what he meant by using him like he was just a fuck? All the oral sex Matthew had asked Alfred to submit to previously had been so tender. There'd be fingers caressing through his hair, running gently down the skin on his face. Matthew would know that Alfred couldn't take all of his length. He had been working up to that but hadn't gotten more than half of the massive cock down before.

 

This hurt.

 

And more than just physically.

 

Suddenly Matthew stopped while he was buried to the root, hand gripping painfully tight in Alfred's hair. There was so much in his mouth that it cut off the flow of air that he'd been already been having difficulty time catching. His nose was buried in Matt's soft skin and pubic hair, which Alfred would normally enjoy in small spurts. Not when he couldn't breath.

 

God. He didn't want to fight back. He trusted Matt.

 

A gush of fluid ran down Alfred's throat, scalding and thick. Matt pulled out before he finished and milked the rest of his orgasm over Alfred's face and throat. The man wasn't really looking.

 

Alfred stayed on his knees while he drew deep lungfuls of precious air. Tears were pouring out of his eyes now.

 

From above him, he heard a choking sound and then saw Matt back up.

 

“What have I done?” whispered Matt, who looked to have come down from his fury.

 

Alfred tried to say something but couldn't make his sore throat work properly. Matt leaned against the door, staring in horror.

 

Finally, Alfred rasped, “I'm sorry.”

 

Matthew, who had slid down to sitting and hung his head between his knees, laughed bitterly and then said, “God why are you sorry? I was the one who just raped you.”

 

Alfred wanted to move forward and comfort Matthew but didn't know what to feel. He didn't want to set off any more punishments. But there was one thing he knew for sure, “You didn't rape me. I could have stopped you, but I didn't.”

 

“That doesn't mean anything. You wouldn't have stopped me and I knew that in the back of my mind. God, you should have. I'm a monster.”

 

Well, it was true that Alfred wouldn't have stopped Matthew, but, “I did something stupid before that. I wasn't thinking.”

 

“That didn't give me the right to do that. Your lip is cracked right- right there,” said Matthew, pointing out to the spot on his own lip but then shuffling over on his knees and using the hem of his shirt to wipe away the spit, faint tinges of blood and the cum that spotted Alfred's face and neck.

 

“I'm the one who's sorry.”

 

Alfred's lip wobbled again and he leaned into Matt's touch while he sniffled. Both of them sat on the uncomfortable floor, Alfred was mostly on Matt's lap though so it wasn't too bad. He rested his head on the Canadian's shoulder and kept himself from crying more.

 

“You had always been so nice before, even when you were firm and dominating. I don't like mean Matthew.”

 

Matt's hand ran up and down Alfred's back, “I know. I've always been so kind before because-”

 

Matt took a deep breath and then pressed a kiss to the top of Alfred's head, “Because I'm in love with you.”

 

“Since when?” asked Alfred into the side of Matt's neck.

 

“Since you were still dating Arthur. It killed me, seeing you with him.”

 

Alfred shook his head and clutched a hand into Matt's shirt, “No way. I would have noticed. If you loved me I would – well – I probably would have done the same things with you at least. I'm not sure I would have changed any part of the past if I could.”

 

Moving them into a position that they could both look at each other, “Why?”

 

“Because it's made me fall in love with you as well,” said Alfred quietly and to his knees which were what he was looking at.

 

“You do?” asked Matt with a raised brow and dropped jaw look of confusion.

 

His look soon cleared and he chuckled, “We're both a bit slow huh?”

 

“Mm hm,” rumbled Alfred, leaned back into Matt's embrace and then said, “I'm sorry for not telling you sooner.”

 

“Same. And you have no idea how sorry I am for what I did. I'll let you punch me if you want.”

 

“I'd pulverize every bone in your face if I did that. Besides, I could have pushed you away. Sure you shouldn't have done that. But I can see why you did a bit. Just please don't' ever do it again.”

 

"Never," said Matthew in a very firm tone of voice.

 

Matthew kissed Alfred's left cheek, then his right. Just when Alfred leaned up to expect the kiss to his lips, Matthew pulled back. Alfred whined low in his throat and popped out his lower lip.

 

“I don't want our first kiss to be here,” said Matthew, moving Alfred off of his lap so he could stand.

 

Then Matthew helped up Alfred, who flushed and muttered under his breath about not being a woman. Inside he was happy to be treated so nicely after what Matthew had done just a few minutes ago. Matthew wrapped an arm around the small of his back and the leaned over to whisper, “You will apologize to the family of the man you inadvertently injured.”

 

“Yessir. I'm already going to have to grovel at my boss' feet. He told me not to do this. Though granted I had been planning on taking a contingent of soldiers with me as well.”

 

They began to walk up the stairs and Matthew shook his head, “Do you understand what kind of shit storm that would have caused? You would have scared the crap out of my citizens.”

 

Upstairs, Alfred saw the guy who was some important Canadian Military person.

 

“Matthew? Is everything settled?” said the man, who must be at least the rank of General to be able to address Matthew by name when they were in a military setting.

 

Alfred knew that while most nations held high military ranks in their respective countries, not all of them worked to earn it. Matthew was one nation who worked hard to be worthy of his rank. American and Canadian troops trained together at times and Alfred remembered seeing Matthew help lead his troops. He'd been filled with such a sense of pride that he had such a great friend and neighbor.

 

“Yes. Thank you, Thomas. This won't be happening again,” said Matthew, giving a look to Alfred out of the corner of his eye.

 

When Alfred didn't say anything, he was nudged in the side in his ribs. He looked up and gave a thousand-watt grin, “Nope. It won't unless Canada's being invaded.”

 

The other man raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

Matthew slapped a hand over Alfred's mouth, “On second thought why don't you just refrain from speaking until we get off of the base.

 

Alfred did so. It took a bit to get off of the base and the soldiers were on their guard around him. Alfred didn't' really blame them. If he were in their shoes he would be too. Actually, he'd probably be kicking ass and taking names but that wasn't the point. Though actually, Alfred didn't know what the point was.

 

Matthew borrowed a vehicle so that he could drive back home. Once they were a ways away from the base, Matthew pulled to the side of the road and turned on his phone.

 

Almost right away it rang and the Canadian answered.

 

“Hello? Oh hey, Gil,” a pause and some way too loud German radiating from the cell phone, “Yeah. I had to deal with an incident.”

 

Alfred didn't like being called an incident – especially to the man's ex-boyfriend. And since when did Matthew understand German?

 

“Sorry. But you say that Elizabeta called you? So she's no longer upset at you?”

 

More loud German. Seriously, Gilbert was way to loud if Alfred could hear him from the passenger seat of the SUV Matt had borrowed.

 

“Well, I'm glad I could be a safe haven for you so you could avoid being run through by Elizabeta's sword. Next time she asks you if her butt looks fat in her pants just say no. Don't think about it first.”

 

“Yeah yeah, Goodbye,” said Matthew – frickin' finally hanging up on the German albino butt munch.

 

Alfred pouted and looked out the window. By the sounds of it, he was wrong about Gilbert being at Matt's house to flirt and he didn't want to admit that he was wrong. He hated doing that.

 

“He's dating Elizabeta you know. He's not into me anymore and it's the same for me,” said Matthew, pulling the vehicle back onto the road.

 

Alfred read a road sign as they zipped by. Seemed they were heading back towards Ottawa.

 

“Thought she was dating Roderich?” said Alfred, picking at the cuffs of his shirt.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Oh. Wow. Learn something new every day”

 

They were quiet for a while. Alfred found a good station to listen to on the radio and was tapping his fingers idly to the beat. After a good fifteen minutes of quiet, Alfred looked over and said, “I can't take this anymore. Are we good or not?”

 

Matthew looked over and smiled, “Yes. We will be. Give it time.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Epilogue

Snow was floating gracefully down to the ground, creating mountainous piles on the already covered white ground. The sky had darkened, but the clouds prevented him from seeing the moon or the stars. All he could see was the faint outline of the mountains nearby. Behind him, the fireplace crackled and filled the room with the pleasant smell of burning logs. From the small kitchenette at the other end of the large area came the drifting aroma of hot apple cider heating on the rather tiny stove.

“Are you going to stare out the bloody window all night or are you going to come over here and have a damned drink?” said Arthur, sitting at the table in the dining room area.

At the stove was Francis, who was ladling cider into mugs that were covered in red maple leaves. The cups were provided by a certain Canadian who was currently seated across from the Brit. Matthew was wearing a thick red hoodie with his hands buried in the front pocket.

“I'm coming Artie geez. Chillax,” said Alfred, going back over to the table that had a plate full of freshly baked maple flavored cookies, courtesy of Francis and Matthew's earlier joint effort. 

Sitting beside Matthew, Alfred grabbed a couple of the yummy and still faintly warm baked goods and shoved half of one in his mouth at once. Arthur handed Alfred a napkin and scowled.

“Are you a child? Honestly,” said Arthur. 

Alfred just grinned, missing a crumb on his face when he wiped. Arthur leaned over and brushed the crumb away with his thumb, wiping the digit on his own serviette afterward. Matthew chuckled.

Francis, by then, had set the steaming mugs in front of everybody and sat down beside Arthur. The Frenchman kisses the Brit's cheek and murmured into his ear. 

Whatever was said caused Arthur to blush furiously and punch Francis' arm as soon as their mugs were safely on the table.

“Aïe! So cruel, you know you love my-” started Francis, getting cut off by a hand on his throat.

The two older men fell to the ground in a heap of limbs, punches, and kicks. There was yelling in both french and english before the bickering stopped. Alfred stood up and looked over the table to see Francis atop Arthur, pinning the Brit's wrists to the floor, the two locking lips.

Matthew rolled his eyes and said, “Let's finish the cider in our room.”

They took the drinks to the room of the cabin they'd rented and closed the door. Alfred climbed on the bed and saw the skis in the corner of the room. They'd spent the whole day on the slopes skiing. Once again, Matthew had beat him on nearly every run down. Oddly enough, once Arthur got the hang of it, he was nearly as good as Matthew was. 

Matthew set his cup on the bedside stand and knelt beside Alfred on the bed. There was a soft look in his eyes, shining in the dim light on the lamp from Alfred's side of the bed. Alfred gulped the rest of his drink back, feeling the hot burn down his throat since Francis had slipped some alcohol into the pot as he heated the drink. Then he put the cup aside and smiled at his lover.

“Glad we invited Arthur and Francis with us on our vacation?”

Matthew nodded, “Yes. I'm also glad that you are getting along with Francis again as well.”

Alfred shrugged, “I'm with you now. Besides, he makes Artie happy. Almost as happy as you make me. And anyway, it's been ten years since then.”

Squirming down on the bed so that he could rest his head on Matthew's chest, Alfred sighed and closed his eyes. He listened to the steady thrum of Matthew's heart, the one so in sync with his own. He traced lazy and random patterns on the soft fabric of Matthew's sweater.

They laid there for a while like that, both of them ignoring the sounds of sex from the other couple in the next room. Alfred normally loved to fill in silences with talking or music, but with Matthew he didn't need that. It was nice, peaceful and wonderful.

“Remember our first kiss?” said Matthew, playing with Alfred's silky hair that was only still faintly damp from the shower he'd had when they'd gotten back in for the night. 

“Of course. You did keep delaying it until forever and ever,” said Alfred, chuckling into Matthew's chest.

“I wanted it to be perfect,” said Matthew, lightly swatting Alfred's shoulder.

“It was worth it though. Kissing me by one of our great lakes under the moon and stars. Who knew you were such a romantic?” said Alfred.

Matthew suddenly pinned Alfred to the bed and pressed their lips together. The Canadian immediately slid his tongue along the seam of Alfred's lips. Alfred opened and tangled his tongue with Matthew's, hot, wet and messy. Both of Matthew's hands were on his cheeks, holding his head in place as he probed Alfred's mouth, remapping every inch he'd already touched and felt. 

As Matthew pulled back, Alfred whined in protest. Matt leaned back down and placed an oh so tender kiss back on Alfred's lips.

“I love you, Alfred.”

“I love you too Mattie.”

Later on that night, while they lay tangled together, sweating and panting, rope marks on his wrists, Alfred sighed. They may not have had the best start to a relationship, what with it being an affair. Both of them may have wondered at one point or another, “Why won't you kiss me?”

It was worth it though. Oh god was it worth it. There wasn't a moment that went by where Alfred wasn't glad that he'd been a cheater and had an affair. There wasn't a moment that went by that wasn't glad that Arthur, now one of his best friends, had cheated on him with Francis.

Because it led him here, laying half sprawled atop his Canadian lover. His partner. His life.

The one he'd spend the rest of his so long life kissing.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, I've never been to Whistler. I've only ever been out of Ontario once to Quebec and then another time to Buffalo, New York. So I tried to get my facts about the village as correct as possible. What I saw and read was amazing. I don't even ski and I want to go.


End file.
